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J.  B.   MOZLEY,  D.D. 

LATE   CANON   OF   CHRIST   CHURCH,    AND   REGIUS  PROFESSOR   OF   DIVINITY 
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39  WEST  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET 

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ADVERTISEMENT. 

IN  the  following  volume  of  DR.  MOZLEY'S  literary  remains, 
the  greater  number  of  original  papers  are  taken  from  the 
Lectures  delivered  by  him  in  the  Latin  Chapel,  Christ  Church, 
as  Eegius  Professor  of  Divinity  :  to  which  office  he  was 
appointed  in  1871.  Of  these  a  selection  had  to  be  made, 
as  the  Author,  having  no  thought  of  publishing  his  Lectures, 
on  some  subjects  availed  himself  freely  of  such  passages 
from  his  earlier  works  as  expressed  his  thought  and  opinion 
on  the  matter  before  him. 

The  paper  on  the  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions  of  a 
Future  State,  a  question  on  which  he  evidently  felt  great 
interest,  was  probably  written  about  the  year  1866. 

The  Eeprints  will  be  felt  by  the  reader  as  deserving  a  per- 
manent place  among  the  Author's  works,  from  the  fulness  and 
originality  of  their  treatment  and  the  lasting  importance  of 
their  subjects.  The  Article  on  Dr.  (now  Cardinal)  Newman's 
Grammar  of  Assent,  which  appeared  in  the  Quarterly  Review 
of  July  1870,  is  given  with  Mr.  Murray's  kind  permission. 


101789 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

I.   EVIDENCES, 1 

II.    PHYSICAL  SCIENCE  AND  THEOLOGY,    .           .           .           .  17 

III.  JEWISH   AND   HEATHEN    CONCEPTIONS   OF  A  FUTURE 

STATE, 26 

IV.  ON  THE  SUPPOSED  OBSCURITY  OF  HOLY  SCRIPTURE,    .  60 

v.  ST.  PAUL'S  TEACHING  AN  INTEGRAL  PART  OF  HOLY 

SCRIPTURE, 74 

VI.  THE  DOGMATIC  OFFICE — ITS  SCOPE  AND  METHOD,      .  86 

VII.  MYSTERIOUS  TRUTHS, 102 

VIII.  OF  CHRIST  ALONE  WITHOUT  SIN,        .        .        .        .  116 

IX.    ORIGINAL  SIN,             . 136 

X.    ORIGINAL  SIN  ASSERTED  BY  WORLDLY  PHILOSOPHERS 

AND  POETS, .  148 

XI.    PERFECTIBILITY, 163 

XII.    MODERN  DOCTRINE  OF  PERFECTIBILITY,      .            .           .  169 

XIII.  THE  ATHANASIAN  CREED, 183 

XIV.  THE  HOLY  EUCHARIST, 200 

XV.    LETTER   TO    THE    REV.  PROFESSOR    STANLEY    ON    THE 

ARTICLES, 219 

XVI.   OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  COLONIAL  CHURCH  QUESTION,  240 

XVII.    REVIEW  OF  DR.  NEWMAN'S  GRAMMAR  OF  ASSJENT,         .  275 

NOTE  ON  EGYPTIAN  DOCTRINE  OF  A  FUTURE  STATE,     .  301 


LECTURES  AND  OTHER  THEOLOGICAL 
PAPERS. 


L—E  VIDENCEt 

THAT  which  a  general  course  of  Lectures  on  Theology  like 
the  present  one  naturally  commences  with,  is  the  subject  of 
Evidence.  I  shall  not,  however,  enter  into  the  consideration  of 
the  general  fabric  of  the  Christian  Evidences,  which  is  well 
known  to  you  from  the  works  of  many  able  writers  who  have 
devoted  themselves  to  that  subject.  I  shall  be  doing  perhaps 
something  more  useful  if  I  call  attention  to  some  particular 
danger  connected  with  the  subject  of  evidence  at  this  day, 
and  endeavour  to  throw  some  light  on  the  way  in  which  it  is 
to  be  met. 

Apart  from,  and  quite  independently  of,  the  particular 
arguments  which  unbelievers  may  use,  it  is  to  be  observed 
that  the  mere  existence  of  a  large  body  of  unbelief  around  us 
is  itself  a  danger  and  a  disturbance  to  us.  It  impresses  the 
imagination.  Such  mere  quantity  of  unbelief  seems  to  be  an 
argument  in  itself  against  revelation.  We  are  perpetually 
reminded  of  it  in  the  books  of  the  day,  in  newspapers  and 
reviews.  It  does  not  allow  itself  to  be  passed  over ;  it  obtrudes 
itself  upon  us  at  every  turn ;  we  cannot  help  observing  it.  All 
this  affects  the  imagination.  Unbelief  is  a  great  fact;  it 
arrests  us,  and  takes  hold  of  our  minds  as  such.  It  has  a 

1  The  first  of  an  official  course  of  lectures  delivered  in  the  Latin  Chapel, 
Christ  Church,  Oxford. 

A 


2  Evidence. 

threatening  aspect.  It  is  thus  that,  before  going  into  the 
reasoning  which  it  employs,  a  large  mass  of  unbelief,  as  a  simple 
fact,  tends  to  produce  a  disturbing  effect  upon  us, — to  unsettle 
and  to  perplex  us.  As  a  mere  fact  it  witnesses  against  religion. 
We  may  remark  that  anything  that  is  constantly  repeated 
tends  to  make  itself  credited,  simply  from  the  force  of 
impression.  So  any  standing  assertion,  quite  apart  from  the 
grounds  of  it,  influences  us ;  there  is  a  tendency  in  us  to  give 
way  to  the  assertion  itself,  which  gains  its  own  admission  in 
time  from  the  mere  circumstance  that  it  demands  it. 

Such,  then,  being  the  disturbing  nature  of  a  great  mass  of 
unbelief,  regarded  simply  as  a  fact,  let  us  calmly  consider 
whether  this  fact  has  any  right  in  reason  to  make  such  an 
impression  upon  us.  We  shall  .find,  I  think,  upon  examina- 
tion, that  like  many  other  great  spectres  which  have  frightened 
men,  the  terror  of  it  goes  upon  a  closer  inspection ;  and  that 
it  ceases  to  possess  any  real  pretension  or  right  to  unsettle  and 
disturb  our  faith. 

It  must  be  remembered,  then,  that  the  conclusions  which 
men  arrive  at  are  only  valuable  so  far  as  they  have  possessed 
and  apprehended  the  full  data  for  forming  them.  We  con- 
stantly reduce  the  value  of  men's  conclusions  on  particular 
points  on  the  ground  either  that  they  have  not  had  oppor- 
tunity of  knowing  the  facts  which  bear  upon  them,  or  that 
they  have  not  the  special  faculties  and  perceptions  required 
for  forming  correct  judgments  upon  them.  The  opinions  men 
form  on  questions  of  poetry,  philosophy,  politics,  trade,  art, 
have  thus  constantly  their  weight  challenged  on  this  ground, 
i.e.  that  these  men  have  not  embraced  certain  preliminary 
special  truths  in  their  departments,  which  are  necessary  to  be 
apprehended  in  order  to  the  formation  of  correct  conclusions 
further  on.  Vast  masses  of  even  strong  judgment  are  very 
often  set  aside  without  any  hesitation  on  this  ground ;  they  do 
not  trouble  at  all  those  who  arrive  at  different  conclusions, 
provided  only  they  see  that  those  who  have  formed  these 
judgments  have  not  embraced  certain  principles  necessary  as 
preliminaries,  and  are  wanting  in  the  previous  and  introductory 
kind  of  truth. 


Evidence.  3 

To  apply,  then,  these  remarks  to  the  subject  before  us  : 
Christianity  is  founded  upon  certain  great  primary  affections 
and  wants  of  the  human  soul,  which  it  meets,  to  which  it 
corresponds,  and  of  which  it  furnishes  the  proper  objects  and 
satisfactions.  There  is  the  feeling  after  a  God ;  there  is  the 
instinct  of  prayer ;  there  is  conscience,  and  the  sense  of  sin ; 
there  is  the  longing  for  and  dim  expectation  of  immortality. 
Christianity  supplies  the  counterpart  of  those  affections  and 
wants  of  the  soul,  and  it  is  as  supplying  this  counterpart  that 
it  recommends  itself  in  the  first  instance  to  us ;  it  appeals  to 
our  belief  upon  the  strength  of  its  own  characteristics  at  the 
same  time  that  it  comes  before  us  as  a  subject  of  external 
evidence.  The  nature  of  Christianity,  and  its  correspondence 
to  our  own  nature,  has  a  legitimate  influence  upon  our  minds, 
before  any  other  consideration ;  it  is  one  part  of  the  whole 
Christian  evidence,  and  a  valid  and  necessary  part,  without 
which  the  other  or  the  historical  proof  is  reasonably  and 
logically  deficient. 

For  will  any  one  consider  the  very  nature  of  belief,  and 
how  it  is  constituted  and  composed  ?  We  never  do,  in  fact, 
believe  anything  upon  external  evidence  only.  Somebody 
whom  you  meet  in  the  streets  tells  you  a  piece  of  news ; 
you  believe  it  instantly,  and  as  a  matter  of  course ;  but 
what  is  it  that  makes  you  so  believe  it ;  his  own  assertion 
simply,  without  anything  else  ?  By  no  means  ;  he  might  tell 
you  some  things,  and  you  would  not  believe  them,  or  at  any 
rate  you  would  remain  a  long  time  in  suspense.  There  is 
something,  then,  besides  the  report  of  the  witness,  or  the 
external  evidence,  which  enters  into  the  grounds  of  your  belief, 
and  that  is  the  antecedent  probability  of  the  fact  itself.  If 
this  is  complete,  and  it  is  a  fact  of  a  common  everyday  sort, 
then  you  believe  the  report  of  it  without  the  least  hesitation. 
Thus  the  very  commonest  sort  of  credence  shows  upon  what 
grounds  belief  is  raised ;  that  it  is  partly  antecedent  probability, 
and  partly  external  testimony.  Transfer  the  belief  to  a  higher 
subject,  and  let  the  grounds  of  probability  be  not  the  mere 
experience  of  outward  life,  but  certain  inward  instincts  and 
affections,  and  the  law  of  credence  still  holds.  Your  ground 


4  Evidence. 

of  belief  is  a  sense  of  probability  meeting  and  uniting  with 
external  evidence.  These  instincts  and  affections  are  what 
Christianity  falls  in  with,  and  with  which  it  coincides.  This 
gives  a  reasonableness,  a  common-sense  meaning  to  Christianity, 
that  it  does  answer  to  our  nature  and  gives  the  complement  of 
it.  And  it  is  the  reasonableness  in  the  truths  themselves  of 
revelation,  caused  by  this  correspondence,  which  gives  that 
foundation  of  belief  which  external  evidence  consummates. 
The  two  grounds,  internal  and  external,  make  one  whole. 
And  with  respect  to  Christianity,  as  with  respect  to  other 
things,  it  is  no  mere  report  of  facts  which  convinces  us,  it  is 
also  a  congruity  in  the  matter  of  the  revelation  itself.  When- 
ever we  believe  a  thing,  in  short,  there  must  be  something 
reasonable  in  it,  reasonable  to  us.  This  is  a  primary  con- 
dition. Nothing  can  engraft  itself  upon  us  which  is  alien  to 
us.  There  must  be  a  congeniality  between  ourselves  and  it 
before  we  can  incorporate  it  by  belief.  We  may  not  see  the 
whole  reason  of  it,  but  there  must  be  some  part  at  which  the 
truth  links  itself  on  to  our  inward  nature. 

If,  then,  there  are  any  considerable  number  of  persons  who 
do  not  feel  and  are  not  affected  by  those  instincts  and  desires 
which  form  the  preliminary  argument  for  Christianity,  and 
which  are  assumed  in  the  effect  of  the  external  evidence  upon 
us,  the  unbelief  of  these  persons  is  accounted  for.  We  know 
the  reason  why  they  do  not  believe,  and  it  is  a  perfectly  sound 
and  valid  reason.  They  are  not,  in  fact,  in  possession  of  the 
full  data  relating  to  the  question, — in  possession,  in  the  sense 
of  inward  apprehension  of  them.  The  same  doctrines  which 
completely  fall  in  with  the  whole  antecedent  thought  and 
feeling  of  some,  and  so  to  them  are  natural  and  reasonable,  are 
to  these  persons  extraneous  and  artificial,  because  there  is  no 
felt  want  and  affection  within  them  for  the  doctrines  to  lay 
hold  of  and  join  themselves  on  to.  That  law  of  belief  then, 
which  requires  a  probability  in  the  thing  itself  to  unite  with 
the  external  evidence  for  it,  is  not  complied  with  in  their  case 
— is  not  satisfied  in  the  premisses  of  revelation  as  they  appre- 
hend them.  There  is  no  probability  in  the  truths  as  they  see 
them  ;  they  therefore  disbelieve  them. 


Evidence.  5 

Let  us  take  the  Comtists.  Now,  to  the  Comtists,  every  one 
of  those  inner  wants  and  affections,  which  I  mentioned  just 
now  as  forming  the  introduction  to  Christian  truth  and 
making  it  reasonable  and  probable  to  us,  is  wanting.  The 
Comtist  says  first,  that  to  assert  there  is  any  sense  of  or 
feeling  after  a  God  in  our  nature  is  a  total  mistake ;  that  it 
does  not  exist,  and  that  the  whole  notion  of  our  having  it  is 
an  unfounded  supposition  put  into  our  heads  by  theorists. 
Accordingly  they  erase  this  religious  instinct  altogether  from 
the  mind,  and  they  stop  at  humanity.  They  deny  of  course, 
consistently  with  this,  the  instinct  of  prayer,  and  instead  of 
praying  they  contemplate  humanity.  They  do  not  acknowledge 
again  a  sense  of  sin  or  guilt  in  man  as  we  understand  it.  Nor 
do  they  acknowledge  an  instinctive  longing  for,  or  expecta- 
tion of,  immortality  in  man.  That  instinctive  feeling  is  com- 
pletely obliterated  in  their  system.  The  Comtists  therefore  are 
clearly  without,  as  a  felt  thing,  that  whole  foundation  of  mind 
upon  which  belief  in  Christianity  arises.  The  conclusion  of  the 
Comtists  therefore  against  Christianity  is  no  perplexity  to  a 
Christian  mind,  because  with  them  the  premisses  are  wanting. 
The  Comtists  then  avowedly  and  formally  maintain  as  tenets 
those  several  denials  of  our  instinctive  feelings  and  instincts  of 
which  the  Christian  is  convinced  to  begin  with  ;  but  Comtism, 
after  all,  only  lets  out  a  secret  of  the  substantial  state  of  mind 
of  a  large  number  of  those  who  do  not  call  themselves 
Comtists;  and  only  gives  formal  expression  to  negations 
which  are  practically  entertained  by  a  much  more  numerous 
portion  of  society  than  the  Comtist  sect.  Comtism  indeed  is, 
in  its  blanks  and  erasures,  the  informal  and  unconscious 
philosophy  of  all  who  are  absorbed  in  the  sense  of  life,  and  to 
whom  this  world  is  the  whole  of  existence. 

But  there  is  a  portion  of  society  also  which,  without  calling 
itself  Comtist,  adopts  these  principles  more  or  less  formally 
and  philosophically ;  which  systematically  does  not  concern 
itself  with  another  world,  or  hold  by  any  mysterious  revela- 
tions of  nature  respecting  God,  conscience,  sin,  judgment. 
There  are  many  in  the  first  place  who,  without  calling  them- 
selves Atheists,  still  do  not  feel  any  want  of  a  God  :  He  does 


6  Evidence. 

not  supply  any  need  in  their  minds ;  they  can  do  without 
Him  ;  He  is  almost  a  superfluity  in  the  world  in  their  eyes  ; 
the  world  seems  to  go  by  laws  of  its  own,  and  to  be  self- 
sufficient.  To  such,  of  course,  prayer  is  no  need  of  the  mind. 
Again,  the  idea  of  morality  which  a  great  number  entertain  is 
not  an  idea  involving  any  such  deep  affection  as  that  of  con- 
science and  sense  of  sin.  It  is  a  public  and  social  idea, — 
the  idea  of  activity,  public  spirit,  discharge  of  public  duties, 
propriety  of  conduct,  and  the  virtues  which  belong  to  a  useful 
member  of  society.  It  goes  a  certain  way  in  moral  truth,  but 
not  to  the  depth  of  conscience  with  respect  to  obligation,  or 
of  sense  of  sin,  supposing  duty  to  have  been  violated  or 
omitted. 

The  whole  standard  wants  the  element  of  sanctity.  But 
this  being  the  case,  how  can  such  a  moral  standard  agree  with 
or  lead  to  Christianity  ?  How  can  it  lead,  in  the  first  place, 
toward  a  doctrine  of  an  Atonement  ?  If  we  feel  a  depth  and  a 
mystery  in  moral  evil,  then  we  are  ready  to  accept  a  mystery 
in  the  remedy  for  that  evil,  and  the  restoration  of  man  ;  but  if 
we  do  not,  such  a  remedy  becomes  immediately  wholly  out  of 
place.  It  is  eccentric  and  unmeaning,  a  simple  anomaly,  un- 
called for  and  joining  on  to  nothing  in  our  nature.  Again, 
there  is  no  want  of  immortality  felt  by  this  class  of  minds. 
One  might  suppose  beforehand,  indeed,  that  human  nature 
would  long  for  an  existence  after  death  from  the  simple 
instinct  of  self- preservation ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  we  find 
that  a  sense  of  present  life  which  Nature  has  fixed  in  us  (if  we 
commit  ourselves  wholly  to  it)  so  completely  shuts  out  the 
idea  of  death,  as  a  realised  and  felt  idea,  that  we  do  not  feel 
any  want  of  immortality.  So  long  as  we  do  not  realise  or  feel 
that  this  life  has  an  end,  this  life  is  endless  to  us ;  we  have 
our  immortality  here,  we  do  not  want  another  immortality. 
There  is  no  internal  premiss  then  in  such  minds  as  these,  to 
which  the  revelation  of  Eternal  Life  in  the  Gospel  is  a  natural 
finish,  and  the  revelation  comes  to  them  as  an  unconnected 
thing  which  their  nature  does  not  appropriate. 

It  is  thus  that  the  negations  of  Corntism,  one  after  another, 
become  the  virtual  premisses  of  a  large  number  of  minds ;  the 


Evidence.  7 

sense  of  God,  the  sense  of  sin,  the  sense  of  eternity,  are  done 
away  with  as  parts  of  human  nature.  The  denials  are  not 
put  expressly  forward  as  tenets,  nor  are  they  formally  held  ; 
but  the  whole  groundwork  of  thought  is  in  this  direction. 
But  if  this  is  the  case,  the  disbelief  of  such  minds  in  Chris- 
tianity need  be  no  surprise  to  us.  That  is  to  say,  we  need  not 
be  surprised  if  such  minds  are  not  convinced  by  the  external 
evidence  for  Christianity,  when  they  do  not  possess  those 
inward  premisses  without  which  the  external  are  necessarily 
defective  ;  if  they  do  not  in  fact  accept  a  conclusion  for  which 
they  have  not  the  full  argument.  As  was  said  just  now,  we 
never  do  in  fact  believe  upon  external  evidence  only  ;  there  is 
always  an  antecedent  ground  of  some  kind :  with  respect  to 
common  facts  this  is  experience;  in  the  case  of  religious 
doctrines,  it  is  certain  instincts  and  affections.  This  is  a  law 
of  belief,  and  it  argues  no  weakness  in  any  given  external 
evidence  that  it  does  not  convince  of  itself;  it  is  only  that 
defect  which  constitutionally  attaches  to  all  external  evidence 
as  such.  The  existence,  then,  of  a  certain  quantity  of  in- 
fidelity in  society  is  accounted  for  ;  it  need  not  trouble  us  as 
a  riddle  and  an  unexplained  thing  does ;  we  can  explain  it, 
we  can  trace  it  to  an  intelligible  source. 

But  when  we  call  attention  to  this  structure  of  evidence, 
we  must  be  prepared  to  meet  one  common  objection  that  is 
made.  When  any  appeal  is  made  to  the  inward  affections  in 
considering  the  grounds  of  Christian  belief,  it  is  commonly  re- 
marked that  this  is  prejudging  the  question.  You  must  argue 
the  question  of  belief  in  Christianity,  it  is  said,  exactly  as  you 
would  argue  any  other  question,  whether  of  history,  or  natural 
philosophy,  or  any  other  department.  Questions  of  truth  are  not 
decided  by  the  affections,  but  simply  and  entirely  by  evidence  ; 
and  therefore  it  cannot  make  any  difference,  as  far  as  the  ascer- 
tainment of  truth  is  concerned,  whether  persons  have  such  and 
such  affections,  or  are  without  them ;  the  Christian  evidences 
must  be  examined  with  perfect  impartiality,  like  any  other 
question  of  fact,  and  any  bias — it  is  boldly  asserted — which  may 
arise  from  desire  and  affection  must  be  altogether  laid  aside. 

But  where  this  objection  is   made   to  any  appeal  to  the 


8  Evidence. 

affections  'of  the  soul  in  considering  the  evidences  of  religion, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  there  is  a  vast  difference  between 
some  questions  and  others,  with  regard  to  the  place  which  the 
affections  hold  in  the  argument  relating  to  them.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  say  that  the  moral  affections  have  any  place  in  a 
question  of  natural  history,  or  chemistry,  or  mechanics,  or  any 
department  of  science  ;  because  the  moral  affections  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  the  faculties  or  perceptions  which  are  concerned 
with  that  subject-matter  ;  but  in  questions  relating  to  religion, 
the  moral  affections  have  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  actual 
perception  and  discernment  by  which  we  see  and  measure  the 
facts  which  influence  our  decision.  Let  us  take,  for  instance,  the 
question  of  a  future  life  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  Now 
it  is  obvious  that  one  of  the  chief  arguments  for  a  future  state 
arises  from  human  character — those  high  forms  of  it  which  we 
meet  and  with  which  we  become  acquainted,  whether  by 
personal  knowledge,  or  by  reading  or  hearing  of  them.  But 
we  cannot  possibly  enter  deeply  into  character  without  affec- 
tions ;  we  cannot  estimate  or  comprehend  truly,  we  cannot 
embrace  keenly,  and  with  a  living  force,  what  is  beautiful,  pro- 
found, and  touching  in  the  mind  and  disposition  of  any  person 
of  extraordinary  goodness,  unless  there  are  affections  in  us 
which  enable  us  to  seize  hold  of  their  moral  traits,  and  inspire 
us  with  a  vivid  admiration  and  appreciation  of  them.  Put  be- 
fore yourselves  any  one  of  the  circle  in  which  you  have  lived, 
or  whom  accident  has  brought  before  you,  whose  whole  type 
has  impressed  itself  upon  you  as  uncommon,  and  who  has  stood 
out  from  the  mass  of  average  life  as  a  being  of  a  higher  mould. 
Now  it  is  evident  that  such  a  character  as  this  is  an  argument 
for  immortality ;  it  is  a  reason  to  your  mind  for  expecting  it,  be- 
cause the  very  idea  of  such  a  being  as  this  perishing  is  a  shock  to 
us.  Was  this  spiritual  creation  made  in  order  to  come  to  nothing? 
In  the  case  of  such  a  character  the  whole  look  of  life  as  a  prepara- 
tory stage  is  particularly  obvious.  Life  has  matured  its  good 
tendencies,  checked  its  wayward  ones ;  it  has  become  more 
perfect  as  it  approached  its  departure  from  the  world,  more 
answering  to  the  design  which  is  stamped  upon  it ;  and  the 
very  final  stage  of  all  has  taken  its  part  in  the  development 


Evidence.  9 

of  it ;  there  it  attains  its  highest  growth  ;  the  soul  is  more  than 
ever  a  living  soul ;  its  feelings  most  alive  and  quick,  the  heart 
most  tender,  thought  most  deep.  Is  all  this  for  nothing  ?  Is 
the  structure  with  such  pains  built  in  order  that  it  may  be 
overthrown,  and  the  parts  so  elaborately  and  delicately  put  to- 
gether in  order  that  one  rude  moment  may  shatter  the  work 
in  pieces  ?  Is  the  Universe  in  which  we  live  a  system  of 
treachery  and  mockery,  of  means  for  no  end,  frustrating  every 
hope,  and  balking  every  purpose  marked  upon  it?  It  is, 
if  just  when  the  character  is  formed  the  being  is  destroyed, 
and  existence  is  over.  That  such  a  being  should  be  ex- 
tinguished, blotted  utterly  out  of  the  tablet  of  the  Universe 
—this  is  a  thought  which  communicates  a  shock  to  our  whole 
nature ;  and  that  it  does  communicate  such  a  shock  is  the 
strongest  of  all  arguments  against  such  being  the  end  of 
creation. 

But  can  this  premiss  for  a  future  life  be  apprehended  with- 
out the  affections  ?  The  moral  affections  are  the  very  in- 
struments by  which  we  embrace  it.  This  fact  of  human 
character  is  quite  a  different  fact  to  us  according  as  we  see  it 
with  the  affections  or  without.  Without  the  affections  we  do 
not  apprehend  it,  grasp  it,  or  possess  ourselves  of  it ;  we  do  not 
take  it  in.  And  therefore  to  those  who  exhort  us  to  divest 
ourselves  of  the  influence  of  the  affections  when  we  come  to 
judge  of  the  evidence  for  Christianity  and  its  doctrines,  we 
reply  that  with  respect  to  very  considerable  parts  of  the  evi- 
dence of  Christian  doctrine,  very  important  premisses  for  it, 
the  affections  are  absolutely  necessary  even  for  the  full  force  of 
the  understanding.  Affection  is  part  of  insight ;  it  is  wanted  for 
gaining  due  acquaintance  with  the  facts  of  the  case.  Feeling  is 
necessary  for  comprehension ;  we  cannot  know  a  particular  in- 
stance of  goodness,  we  cannot  embrace  the  true  conception  of 
goodness  in  general  without  it.  Affection  is  itself  intelligence  ; 
we  cannot  separate  the  feeling  in  our  nature  from  the  reason  in  it. 
When  we  come  to  examine  the  argument  for  a  life  eternal,  we 
find  that  we  cannot  do  it  even  bare  justice  without  the  help 
of  the  affections.  One  of  the  very  first  considerations  upon 
the  question  of  the  destination  of  man  to  a  state  of  eternal 


io  Evidence. 

happiness  is  human  character,  the  kind  of  goodness  it  is 
capable  of,  its  worthiness  of  such  a  destination ;  and  this  is 
a  matter  which  requires  the  affections  as  the  condition  of 
deciding  it. 

But  let  us  take  another  point  in  the  consideration  of  a  future 
life,  and  in  our  relations  of  mind  toward  it ;  and  we  shall  see 
a  fresh  reason  why  the  affections  are  necessary  for  seeing  pro- 
perly the  evidence  of  Christian  truth.  It  is  impossible  that 
we  can  obtain  a  full  insight  into  the  evidence  of  the  life  eter- 
nal after  death,  unless  there  exists  in  our  hearts  the  real  and 
earnest  wish  for  that  future  life.  It  may  be  said, — a  strong 
wish  prejudges  the  question,  the  wish  is  father  to  the  thought. 
Certainly  there  is  a  strong  tendency  in  it  to  act  so;  but  on 
the  other  hand,  to  be  without  the  wish  for  immortality  is  to 
be  without  the  natural  stimulus  and  motive  to  exert  your 
reason  on  the  subject,  and  to  see  what  there  is  to  be  seen  on 
the  side  of  that  doctrine.  People  are  much  mistaken  if  they 
think  that  no  stimulus  is  required  for  the  discerning  of  truth, 
for  seeing  the  reasons  and  the  evidences  there  are  for  any 
great  conclusions  connected  with  our  prospects.  Would 
Columbus,  for  instance,  have  seen  all  the  evidences  and  pro- 
babilities which  he  did  see  of  the  existence  of  an  unknown 
hemisphere  ;  would  he  have  elicited  the  different  scattered  facts 
which  threw  light  upon  it,  and  traced  out  the  faint  lines  which 
converged  in  that  direction,  had  he  not  been  inspired  with  the 
intense  longing  for  discovery  ?  It  was  a  great  wish  possessing 
itself  of  his  whole  mind  which  enabled  him  to  see  all  the 
reasons  there  were  for  his  conclusion.  To  have  been  without 
the  wish  would  have  been  to  be  without  the  power  of  seeing 
them. 

But  again  the  wish  for  the  life  immortal  is  obligatory  upon 
us  ;  nor  are  we  in  a  proper  moral  or  reasonable  attitude  of  mind 
upon  this  question  unless  we  have  it.  If  we  ask  a  man  to 
believe,  he  may  say,  I  cannot ;  but  he  cannot  say  he  cannot  wish. 
If,  then,  there  is  any  final  issue  of  the  whole  of  human  existence 
which  appears  to  be  in  the  least  possible,  that  is  to  say,  our 
ascent  into  a  glorious  and  endless  state,  we  are  at  any  rate 
bound,  morally  bound,  to  wish  it  to  be  true.  We  are  under  the 


Evidence.  1 1 

rational  obligation  of  wishing  that  to  be  the  real  issue  which 
is  obviously  the  best  and  highest.  That  the  mere  conception 
is  offered  to  the  mind,  unless  indeed  it  is  impossible  and 
involves  a  contradiction,  constitutes  an  obligation  to  desire 
its  truth.  A  man,  therefore,  is  not  in  a  reasonable  attitude  of 
mind,  unless  he  has  the  strong  wish  that  the  idea  of  Eternal 
Life  after  death  should  be  true  in  fact. 

As,  then,  we  saw  before  that  affection  was  necessary  for 
seeing  the  evidence  for  immortality,  because  we  could  not 
embrace  the  argument  from  human  character  for  that  conclu- 
sion without  it ;  so  now  we  see  its  necessity  for  that  object,  in 
the  fact  that  without  affection  we  cannot  wish  for  immor- 
tality, and  that  without  the  wish  we  cannot  see  the  full  argu- 
ment for  immortality.  Subjects  of  physical  science  do  not 
require  the  affections,  because  the  affections  throw  no  light 
upon  them,  and  are  not  wanted  to  understand  them ;  but  the 
truths  of  Christianity  have  a  relation  to  our  moral  nature,  and 
our  moral  nature  both  consists  of  affections  and  requires  the 
affections  to  understand  it. 

When,  then,  the  existence  of  a  large  mass  of  unbelief  in 
society  is  felt,  as  it  should  be,  as  a  painful  arid  grave  fact, 
let  us  at  the  same  time  remember  that  the  real  value  and 
weight  of  such  a  fact  must  be  tested  by  the  proper  conditions. 
Do  these  persons  receive  and  acknowledge  in  the  first  place 
those  preliminary  truths  which  are  assumed  in  the  evidences 
of  Christianity?  Is  there  this  sacred  foundation  of  holy 
sentiment  and  affection  in  their  characters  ?  If  there  is  not, 
they  want  the  first  conditions  upon  which  Christian  belief  is 
formed ;  and  therefore,  their  unbelief  being  accounted  for  by 
an  actual  want  in  their  premisses,  the  value  of  the  fact  as  a 
witness  against  the  Christian  conclusion  is  annihilated.  With- 
out the  felt  need  for  prayer,  without  the  sense  of  sin,  without 
the  wish  for  immortality,  there  is  no  antecedent  ground  of 
probability  for  Christianity ;  but  there  must  always  be  some 
antecedent  probability  to  create  belief ;  we  never  in  fact  believe 
anything  upon  external  evidence  only. 

I  have  called  attention  to  one  danger  connected  with  the 
subject  of  evidence  at  this  day,  namely,  the  omission  of  the  real 


1 2  Evidence. 

place  which  the  affections  have  in  forming  the  ability  to  judge 
of  the  evidences  of  religion.  I  will  ask  attention  now  to 
another  danger  very  much  akin  to  this,  namely,  a  narrow 
idea  of  what  does  or  does  not  make  an  argument.  There  is  a 
certain  class  of  considerations  which  have  a  strong  influence 
upon  the  most  rational  minds  in  aiding  the  formal  evidences 
of  religion,  but  if  one  of  these  is  mentioned  it  will  probably  be 
met  by  the  reply  that  it  is  not  an  argument.  For  instance, 
it  is  a  consideration  which  makes  a  great  impression  upon 
us,  that,  as  was  just  now  mentioned,  the  issue  of  things  which 
the  Christian  revelation  teaches  us,  is  the  very  highest  issue 
imaginable  or  conceivable.  Other  religions,  indeed,  have 
taught  various  forms  of  a  future  life,  but  it  has  been  either  a 
state  of  vanity  and  emptiness,  as  the  pagan  future  state  was ; 
or  it  has  been  restless  and  fluctuating  existence,  going  through 
interminable  changes  and  cycles,  and  connected  with  metem- 
psychosis, and  the  passage  of  the  soul  through  different  animal 
and  human  lives,  as  the  Egyptian  and  Oriental  doctrines  taught. 
A  glorious  eternal  state  is  the  revelation  of  Christianity  alone. 
But  when  this  is  mentioned,  that  is,  that  the  Christian  issue  of 
things  is  the  very  best  imaginable  ;  "  This  is  not  an  argument," 
is  the  reply.  That  it  is  the  lest  imaginable  issue  does  not  show- 
that  it  is  the  true  one.  Thus,  though  a  consideration  may  be 
one  which  we  cannot  help  being  impressed  by, — and  reasonably 
impressed, — though  it  is  one  which  must  have  some  weight,  and 
a  weight  which,  as  far  as  it  goes,  is  on  the  side  of  Christianity, 
it  is  still  set  aside  altogether  and  allowed  to  contribute  nothing 
to  the  Christian  evidences,  because  it  is  not,  as  is  said,  an 


argument. 


Now  in  answer  to  this,  I  think  it  may  be  fairly  said  that 
anything  is  an  argument  which,  as  far  as  it  goes,  tends 
rationally  to  bias  the  mind  in  a  certain  direction.  We  must 
have  no  narrow  definition  of  an  argument.  The  question  is, 
Is  there  naturally  any  force  in  a  given  consideration — not  an 
actually  deciding  force,  but  a  force  ? — if  so,  it  is  an  argument, 
as  far  as  it  goes.  Thus,  in  the  present  instance,  we  cannot  help 
ourselves  being  influenced  by  the  consideration  of  the  issue  of 
the  Christian  scheme, — what  it  ends  in, — that  its  end  is  the  best 


Evidence.  1 3 

possible  one.  It  is  so  natural  for  us  to  think  that  this  universe 
must  be  for  good,  that  life,  with  all  its  capacities  of  development 
and  discipline,  must  be  for  some  great  end,  that  when  the 
highest  and  best  conceivable  end  is  announced  in  a  revelation, 
its  being  the  lest  end  is  a  real  argument  to  us  that  it  is  the  true 
end.  So  when  we  are  arguing  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state 
itself,  and  when  we  appeal  to  the  natural  wish  and  longing  that 
we  find  within  us  for  that  state,  as  one  of  the  evidences  of  its 
truth,  we  are  met  again  with  the  reply,  "  This  is  no  argument : 
that  you  wish  for  it  does  not  prove  that  it  is  true"  It  may  be 
admitted  that  it  is  no  proof :  it  would  be  absurd  to  say  that  it 
was,  taken  by  itself.  And  yet  it  would  be  as  unnatural  to  say 
that  the  innate  hope  we  feel  had  no  force  whatever  as  an  item 
of  evidence  on  the  subject.  That  a  man  ought  to  wish  for  this 
issue  is  clear,  as  I  just  said;  but  now  I  say  that  the  fact  that 
man,  when  his  nature  is  not  suppressed,  does  wish  for  it,  that 
he  has  a  true  longing  and  hope  for  it,  is  a  real  argument,  as  far 
as  it  goes,  for  it.  The  existence  of  such  a  wish  must  reasonably 
influence  him.  It  is  not  a  mere  wish,  such  as  we  might  have 
for  some  impossible  thing.  No,  the  wish  that  we  actually  find 
in  our  minds  for  a  life  to  come  is  a  wish  accompanied  with  an 
idea  of  the  possibility  of  it ;  it  is  a  practical  hope.  And  that 
we  have  such  a  hope  is  an  argument.  Does  Nature  insert  an 
instinct  without  a  use  ?  It  may  be  said,  indeed,  the  hope  is 
not  in  vain  if  it  cheers  people  at  the  time,  and  that  that  is  a 
use  for  it.  But  is  this  the  kind  of  use  which  we  see  in  real 
nature ;  that  it  is  useful  by  deceit  and  by  illusion ;  by  giving 
people  ideas  to  which  there  is  no  responding  reality  merely 
that  they  may  have  the  comfort  of  the  ideas  ?  That  is  not  the 
type  of  Nature's  action.  If  she  implants  a  presage  or  prognos- 
tication, it  is  that  it  may  tell  us  of  something.  Her  use  and 
truth  coincide. 

The  hope  in  our  nature  then  for  a  future  life  is  a  reason,  in 
a  degree,  for  expecting  that  life  ;  it  is  a  kind  of  forecasting  of 
the  future  fact.  And  this  accounts  for  the  more  believing  temper 
which  is  often  the  effect  of  illness  and  approach  of  death. 
When  people  are  well  and  strong,  and  enclosed  in  the  sense  of 
life,  they  entertain  no  real  wish  for  another  life,  and  have  none 


1 4  Evidence. 

of  this  forecasting.  Amid  the  fulness  of  physical  power  and 
strength  all  these  presentiments  and  presages  are  brushed  aside 
as  superfluous  unmeaning  shadows ;  but  when  this  life  is 
deserting  them,  and  they  really  want  another,  then  these 
presages  and  instincts  come  into  force ;  then  they  have  a 
meaning.  Unbelievers  have  changed  often  upon  the  approach 
of  death,  and  infidels  say  it  is  slavish  fear,  their  understanding 
giving  way.  But  is  it  their  understanding  giving  way,  or  not 
rather  their  understanding  awakening  ?  They  see  tokens  then 
within  them  to  which  their  eyes  were  shut  before,  deep  per- 
ceptions to  what  in  the  midday  glare  of  life  they  were  not  alive. 
And  this  may  remind  us  again  of  another  argument  for  reli- 
gion which  many  disallow,  namely,  its  utility.  We  appeal  to  the 
extraordinary  utility  of  the  Christian  revelation,  what  motives 
it  has  supplied  to  virtue  and  benevolence,  what  stimulus  its 
hopes  and  anticipations  have  given  to  our  moral  nature.  But 
the  answer  is  the  same  as  before.  Christianity  may  be  useful, 
but  it  is  not  therefore  true.  And  yet  though  usefulness  is  not 
formal  proof,  it  is  mockery  to  say  that  there  is  not  something 
in  it  bearing  upon  evidence.  We  feel  that  we  cannot  wholly 
ignore  utility  in  our  estimate  of  the  evidence  of  the  truth  of  a 
revelation.  For  if  a  revelation  truly  comes  from  God,  it  must 
carry  usefulness  also  as  well  as  truth ;  usefulness  must  be  one 
of  its  characteristics ;  and  therefore  where  we  see  extraordinary 
and  wonderful  usefulness,  we  must  take  it  as  a  note  of  truth. 
And  indeed  the  progress  of  thought  on  the  whole  has  been  a 
decided  testimony  to  utility  as  an  argument.  The  philosophies 
of  the  old  world  and  the  ancient  schools  of  legislation  main- 
tained the  maxim  of  the  utility  of  falsehood,  and  the  great 
expediency  of  established  religions,  though  they  were  not  true  ; 
but  the  growth  of  thought  has  run  counter  to  this.  Lucretius 
condemned  religion  distinctly  as  being  pernicious  and  injurious 
to  society,  as  if  he  saw  that  to  admit  its  utility  would  have  been 
to  go  a  long  way  in  admitting  its  truth.  And  it  is  curious  to 
observe  that  in  the  present  day  the  position  of  "false  yet 
useful  "  has  been  given  up,  and  that  modern  Atheism  expressly 
charges  religion  with  the  evils  and  disasters  of  society,  and  the 
grievances  and  miseries  of  humanity. 


Evidence.  1 5 

There  is  no  mathematical  criterion  then  of  an  argument. 
Everything  is  an  argument  which  naturally  influences  us  in 
one  way  rather  than  another;  to  think  one  thing  true  rather 
than  another.  In  the  preliminary  region  of  evidence  especially, 
we  meet  with  considerations  which  have  such  a  natural  influ- 
ence upon  us  in  guiding  our  judgment,  that  it  would  be  folly 
to  dispense  with  them.  And  yet  if  we  listen  to  some  persons' 
objections,  we  shall  have  to  believe  there  is  nothing  in  these 
considerations,  because,  as  it  is  said,  they  are  not  arguments. 
They  do  not  indeed  pretend  to  a  technically  conclusive  force ; 
and  yet  to  shut  them  out  from  the  judicial  scope  on  account  of 
their  informal  character  as  arguments,  would  be  to  imitate 
those  narrow  and  pedagoguish  tactics  of  law  which  fence  in, 
with  scrupulous  jealousy,  what  are  called  the  rules  of  evidence, 
till  step  by  step  they  exclude  as  irregular  the  main  and  most 
important  inlets  of  truth  and  channels  of  proof. 

I  have  confined  myself  in  this  Lecture  to  the  preliminary 
ground  of  Christian  Evidence,  and  have  called  attention  to  some 
important  considerations  belonging  to  that  introductory  section 
of  evidence.  I  have  called  attention  first  to  the  place  which 
the  affections  hold  in  the  Christian  evidence  ;  and  secondly,  to  a 
wider  and  truer  definition  of  an  argument,  which  takes  it  out 
of  a  technical  test,  and  makes  it  any  consideration  which 
reasonably  influences  us.  And  under  this  head  I  have  alluded 
to  the  antecedent  argument  for  Christianity  contained  in  the 
fact  that  it  offers  to  us  the  highest  possible  issue  of  human  life 
and  this  whole  scheme  of  things ;  to  the  antecedent  argument 
of  instinctive  hopes ;  to  the  antecedent  argument  of  utility. 
The  substance  of  the  Christian  evidences  of  course  lies  in 
positive  testimony,  and  in  the  proof  of  those  historical  facts 
upon  which  Christianity  is  based.  But,  referring  you  for  the 
positive  structure  of  Christian  evidences  to  those  well-known 
treatises  which  have  issued  at  different  times  from  our  Church, 
I  have  preferred  on  this  occasion  directing  your  thoughts  to 
those  points  connected  with  the  introduction  to  Christian 
evidences ;  because,  while  antecedent  ground  is  apt  to  escape 
our  notice,  it  is  ground  of  which  it  is  very  important  to  retain 
a  proper  hold  and  a  just  estimate.  It  is  very  material  to 


1 6  Evidence. 

establish  our  right  to  all  the  argument  with  which  that  ground 
supplies  us, — not  to  allow  ourselves  to  be  deprived  of  it  upon 
technical  reasons ;  never  to  let  a  consideration  of  real  weight, 
which  has  a  genuine  and  natural  influence  upon  us,  be 
snatched  out  of  our  grasp  upon  the  plea  that  it  is  not  an  argu- 
ment. Everything  is  an  argument  which  has  a  natural  in- 
fluence upon  us  in  inducing  us  to  think  one  way  rather  than 
another.  If  any  persons  have  a  criterion  of  an  argument  in 
their  head,  which  lets  all  kinds  of  influential  considerations  slip, 
— casting  them  aside,  and  preventing  their  being  turned  to  any 
use — because  they  do  not  come  within  this  technical  test ;  it  is 
high  time,  not  that  we  should  give  up  these  considerations,  but 
that  they  should  alter  their  criterion  of  an  argument.  Let  us 
keep  a  firm  hold  upon  the  antecedent  arguments  for  Christianity, 
upon  all  those  reasons  which  induce  us  to  welcome  Christianity, 
and  which  prepare  us  for  the  reception  of  it  when  it  is  placed 
before  us  by  positive  evidence.  These  form  a  genuine  and 
necessary  part  of  the  whole  evidential  structure,  which  is 
maimed  and  halt  without  it.  We  must  have  probabilities  to 
aid  external  evidence  in  religion,  just  as  in  ordinary  cases  of 
reported  facts ;  it  is  no  fault  of  external  evidence  that  it  should 
be  so,  it  is  a  constitutional  limitation  which  attaches  to  it,  and 
to  which  antecedent  probabilities  are  the  constitutional  supple- 
ment. And  as  likelihood  from  experience  is  this  supplement 
in  ordinary  evidence,  so  likelihood  from  moral  considerations 
is  in  religious  evidence. 


II.— PHYSICAL  SCIENCE  AND  THEOLOGY.^ 

THERE  is  a  current  assertion  relating  to  the  existence  of  a 
Moral  and  Personal  Deity,  that  the  argument  from  nature  for 
this  truth  is  weak,  and  that  the  professed  proof  of  it  is  taken 
from  theological  metaphysics.  I  will  offer  one  or  two  con- 
siderations on  this  point.  It  may  be  admitted  then  that  the 
existence  of  the  human  soul  clears  up  many  questions  respect- 
ing the  Deity  which  were  not  fully  decided  when  we  had  only 
external  nature  before  us.  For  example,  as  regards  the  question 
of  design — we  undoubtedly  see  a  plastic  power  at  work  in 
nature  before  we  take  the  human  soul  into  consideration  ;  but 
is  this  power  intelligent  or  designing?  We  are  involved 
in  some  perplexity.  Mere  material  law  is  methodical  in  its 
operations,  as  in  the  case  of  crystals.  Where  do  we  get  that 
plain  evidence  of  an  end  beyond  the  apparatus  itself,  an  object 
which  is  ulterior  to  the  physical  framework  with  which  it  is 
connected,  which  is  the  test  of  true  design  in  nature  ?  The 
answer  is  in  all  sentient  life  in  its  degree ;  but  certainly  the 
highest  evidence  of  such  an  ulterior  end,  which  throws  all  other 
evidence  almost  into  the  shade,  is  the  human  soul.  That 
stands  in  such  bold  relief  to  the  bodily  structure  belonging  to 
it,  as  the  end  of  that  structure  ;  the  final  cause  is  declared  with 
such  overpowering  light,  the  purpose  shines  forth  with  such 
indubitable  clearness  and  conspicuousness  that  the  conclusion 
is  irresistible  :  that  power  which  constructed  this  body  in  order 
to  the  existence  of  myself — an  intelligent  being — must  be  itself 
intelligent. 

Again,  has  the  Deity  will  ?  On  this  question,  too,  we  are 
much  in  the  dark  till  we  come  to  the  human  soul,  which 
speaks  and  says  : — "  I  have  will,  therefore  that  power  which 
constructed  this  bodily  apparatus  for  my  existence  has  will  too." 

1  Read  by  the  Author  at  the  Church  Congress  held  in  Dublin  1868. 

B 


1 8  Physical  Science  and  Theology. 

Again,  is  the  Deity  moral  ?  Here  we  are  entirely  in  the  dark 
before  we  come  to  the  human  soul,  which  says  :  "  I  am  moral, 
therefore  the  power  that  made  me  is  moral."  In  a  word,  He 
who  thus  obviously  and  elaborately  provides  for  a  moral  and 
personal  existence  must  Himself  be  a  moral  and  personal  Deity. 

It  must,  therefore,  be  admitted  that  man,  or  the  human  soul, 
is  the  revelation  of  God  in  nature.  Prior  to  this  spiritual  fact 
in  nature,  the  mechanical  system  of  nature  reveals  a  First 
Cause  of  some  kind,  but  it  does  not  speak  to  the  character  of 
that  Cause  whether  he  is  intelligent,  moral,  and  has  a  will. 
We  are  groping  in  the  dark  amid  the  beginnings  and 
primordia  of  things  before  nature  interprets  itself,  and  decides 
as  to  the  character  of  its  First  Cause.  But  when  we  arrive  at 
man  or  the  human  soul,  the  authorship  of  nature  comes  out 
like  a  disclosed  secret,  a  light  breaks  forth  which  fills  all  space, 
which  illuminates  the  whole  fabric  of  the  physical  universe, 
and  which  reveals  the  moral  source  and  end  of  nature.  Of  man 
it  may  be  said,  that  not  only  as  investigating  man,  but  that  as 
man,  he  is  the  interpreter  of  nature. 

But  is  this  proof  of  a  moral  Deity,  as  distinguished  from  law 
or  plastic  power,  a  metaphysical  argument  ?  Undoubtedly  it 
is,  if  for  convenience'  sake  we  choose  to  call  one  part  of  our 
nature  metaphysical ;  but  let  us,  as  we  have  a  right  to  do,  claim 
the  term  physical  for  all  nature,  and  has  not  the  human  soul  a 
place  in  physics  ?  Is  the  instinct  of  any  brute,  any  insect,  to 
rank  as  part  of  nature,  and  is  the  instinct  of  man — namely, 
his  soul — not  to  rank  as  such  ?  In  physical  treatises  the  in- 
stincts of  animals  are  invariably  treated  as  just  as  much  a  part  of 
physics  as  their  bodies  :  the  two  are  on  a  par  as  physical  facts. 
And  the  soul  is  the  instinct  of  man.  We  know  indeed  that  the 
soul  will  one  day  exist  out  of  this  physical  universe ;  but  so 
long  as  it  is  in  it,  it  is  as  plainly  a  part  of  it  as  the  instinct  of 
an  ant  or  bee.  The  theistic  argument,  then,  from  the  human 
soul  is  derived  from  something  which  is  an  element  of  this 
physical  world ;  an  instinct,  a  life,  a  power,  an  insight,  an 
energy,  going  on  in  it,  provided  for  by  it,  imbedded  in  the  very 
centre  of  this  whole  physical  apparatus.  The  great  user  of 
nature,  the  head  and  summit  of  nature,  the  rational  soul  which 


Physical  Science  and  Theology.  1 9 

inhabits  nature  and  reigns  in  nature,  belongs  to  nature  as  much 
as  the  mechanical  laws  of  nature.  It  is  a  part  of  physics  taken 
as  a  whole.  That  marvellous  spiritual  insertion  in  this  physical 
world  is  yet  one  of  the  contents  of  that  world.  We  look  down 
from  the  height  of  our  own  reason  upon  a  vast  shadowy  scene 
below  of  blind  and  groping  instinct ; — instinct  which  may  be 
called  subterranean,  its  processes  are  so  dark,  so  hidden  from 
itself,  so  unconscious  ; — a  maze  of  motions  in  all  shapes  and 
figures,  following  tame  and  homely  or  wild  and  eccentric  lines, 
but  all  going  011  in  rigid  grooves,  between  invisible  walls  which 
bound  the  vision;  all  the  movements  of  a  deaf,  dumb,  and 
blind  spirit  which  does  not  perceive,  which  does  not  think, 
which  does  not  direct  itself.  All  brute  life  has  this  sad  impress 
stamped  even  on  its  liveliest  play  and  action,  that  it  does  not 
know  what  it  is  doing.  From  this  animal  instinct  in  all  its 
stages,  the  leap  is  so  sudden  and  immense  to  the  human 
instinct,  with  its  inward  light  of  self-consciousness,  and  all  its 
other  glorious  perceptions  and  faculties,  that  we  forget  that 
that  mental  force  which  is  so  supreme  in  nature  is  still  in 
nature,  and  that  it  does  not  cease  to  be  part  of  nature,  because 
it  is  the  highest  part.  This  enormous  and  prodigious  instinct, 
which  is  so  different  from  the  other  instincts  as  to  look 
miraculous,  is  still  within  the  system — though  a  spiritual 
insertion  in  it,  still  in  it; — the  property  of  an  inhabitant  of  nature, 
a  tenant  of  a  physical  frame — an  animal — man.  The  First  Cause 
of  this  whole  physical  apparatus  has  connected  this  apparatus 
with  the  human  soul :  and  it  is  all  one  system,  the  physical 
kosmos  which  encloses,  and  the  spiritual  life  which,  is  enclosed. 
When,  therefore,  it  is  asserted  that  the  argument  from 
nature  for  a  moral  and  personal  Deity  is  weak,  it  may  be 
replied  that  this  assertion  is  only  made  true  by  robbing  the 
argument  from  nature  of  its  principal  contents.  The  human 
soul  does  not  come  under  the  head  of  metaphysics  only,  but  it 
is  a  part  of  physics,  or  nature  taken  as  a  whole.  But  if,  upon 
the  plea  of  its  being  a  metaphysical  element  in  the  question, 
it  is  excluded  from  a  place  in  the  argument  from  nature  ;  if  the 
spiritual  is  extracted  from  nature,  before  we  are  allowed  to 
argue  from  nature,  the  natural  argument  for  a  God  may  well 


2O  Physical  Science  and  Theology. 

become  weak.  We  reduce  it  then  simply  to  an  argument 
from  methodical  matter,  from  mechanical  adjustments ;  and 
thus  narrowed  and  reduced,  no  wonder  if  the  argument  from 
nature  proves  only  a  mechanical  Deity. 

I  am  aware,  indeed,  that  this  is  only  a  question  as  to  what 
head  a  particular  argument  comes  under :  and  that  the  human 
soul  is  the  same  premiss  under  whatever  head  it  may  be  placed ; 
but  I  do  not  think  the  question  is  therefore  unimportant.  For 
the  practical  influence  an  argument  has  upon  the  mind,  a 
great  deal  depends  upon  division.  An  arbitrary  division 
excludes  some  great  premiss  from  an  area  and  enclosure  in 
which  it  would  have  striking  weight,  banishes  it  from  the  field 
before  our  eyes,  ostracises  it,  removes  it  to  some  distant  quarter 
in  which  it  is  thrown  entirely  upon  its  own  isolated  strength 
instead  of  having  all  the  aid  of  a  familiar  and  recognised  sur- 
rounding. So  if  we  make  the  great  theistic  argument  nature, 
the  theistic  evidence  of  the  human  soul  is  plainly  disadvan- 
taged  if  it  is  not  allowed  to  come  under  the  head  of  nature. 
As  a  metaphysical  premiss  only,  it  is  deprived  of  a  certain 
matter-of-fact  aspect  arid  bearing  which  it  possesses  as  a 
physical.  "  Important  in  its  place,  but  no  part  of  the  argument," 
is  the  reply  to  a  proof  which  does  not  come  under  a  main 
heading;  "we  are  arguing  from  nature,  you  are  introducing 
metaphysics."  A  premiss  that  is  shut  out  of  a  great  trunk 
argument  fares  like  an  incidental  visitor,  to  whom  we  say  : 
"  Presently, — I  will  attend  to  you  by  and  by."  As  soon  as 
ever  a  man  has  handed  over  some  point  to  metaphysics,  he 
thinks  he  has  entirely  got  rid  of  it,  that  he  need  not  give  him- 
self any  further  trouble  about  it,  that  it  is  removed  to  a  region 
of  shadows.  But  remove  mind  or  soul  from  its  technical  head 
of  metaphysics,  and  place  it  under  its  real  head  of  nature,  and 
then  we  have  at  once  two  great  facts  of  nature  before  us.  All 
soul  says  of  itself  "  I  will,"  and  "  I  ought ; "  and  these  two 
facts  re-act  by  a  necessary  law  of  thought  upon  the  character 
of  the  Divine  Being.  It  is  quite  true  that  both  of  these  are 
mysteries.  It  is  true  no  one  knows  what  "ought"  means; 
no  one  has  deciphered,  no  mortal  key  ever  will  decipher  that 
unfathomable  enigma.  No  one  knows  what  "will"  is,  its 


Physical  Science  and  Theology.  2 1 

source  or  basis  ;  that,  too,  is  an  inaccessible  secret.  But  it 
would  be  the  greatest  mistake  in  philosophy  to  say  that 
mysteries  cannot  be  facts.  With  the  innate  impressions  of  "will" 
and  "  ought "  all  nature  vibrates  ;  all  history  is  founded  on  them ; 
they  are  inherent  in  us,  rooted  in  us,  no  human  being  can 
shake  them  off.  When  a  man  has  deliberately  and  with  choice 
before  him  done  a  wrong  act,  can  that  man  really  make  him- 
self think  that  he  could  not  have  done  the  right  one?  He 
cannot.  It  is  an  impossibility  of  nature.  Can  he  cast  off  the 
sense  of  right  and  wrong  ?  That  too  is  an  impossibility  of 
nature.  These  impressions  of  "  will "  and  "  ought "  are  as 
plain,  as  obvious,  as  conspicuous  facts  of  nature, — of  physics  in 
the  large  sense, — as  electricity  or  the  circulation  of  the  blood. 
And  with  these  two  facts  within  us,  we  cannot,  by  a  necessary 
law  of  thought,  rest  in  a  God  who  does  not  respond  to  them. 
If  there  is  no  God,  there  is  no  moral  God ;  but  if  there  is  a  God 
of  some  kind  (as  science  admits),  and  the  only  question  is  what 
kind,  that  question  is  settled  by  these  facts. 

Now  to  bring  these  remarks  to  bear  upon  one  particular  point. 

1.  Scientific  men  sometimes  appeal  to  an  inward  certainty 
which  they  feel,  as  to  the  impossibility  of  any  interruption  of 
the  order  of  nature.  They  do  not  profess  to  give  the  reason  of 
this  idea ;  they  only  say  they  are  possessed  by  it ;  that  it  is 
an  intuition,  a  forcible  impression,  which  grows  by  conversance 
with  nature  and  insight  into  her  laws.  Now,  with  respect  to 
such  an  impression  as  this,  I  would  remark  that  it  is  well 
known  as  a  truth  of  human  nature,  and  one  of  wide  application, 
and  attaching  to  all  kinds  of  subject — that  nothing  does  pro- 
duce a  stronger  sense  of  certainty  in  men's  minds  than  forcible 
impressions  for  which  they  can  give  no  reason.  It  is  curious 
that  the  instant  you  begin  to  reason,  in  a  certain  sense  you 
begin  to  doubt.  The  element  of  doubt  is  introduced.  If  you 
allege  a  reason  for  a  thing,  the  question  of  proportion 
immediately  arises — is  it  reason  enough  'I  is  the  premiss  strong 
enough  to  support  the  conclusion  ?  But  if  you  have  no  pre- 
miss, and  no  reason,  the  whole  element  of  doubt  which  arises 
from  this  source  is  avoided.  There  are  such  multitudes  of 
examples  of  this  species  of  certainty  arising  simply  from 


2  2  Physical  Science  and  Theology. 

forcible  impression,  that  they  may  be  said  to  compose  a 
chapter  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind  ;  nor  is  there  any 
fact  which  experience  teaches  more  strongly  than  that,  for  the 
absolute  sense  of  certainty,  there  is  nothing  like  being  without 
a  reason.  Not,  however,  that  I  would  exclude  all  forcible 
impressions,  which  are  unable  to  give  a  complete  account  of 
themselves  from  philosophy ;  or  say  that  because  men  have 
them  absurdly,  men  may  not  sometimes  have  them  wisely ; 
but  I  would  only  remind  those  who  possess  such  impressions, 
that  the  imagination  simulates  reason  with  wonderful  success, 
and  has  an  extraordinary  power  in  making  the  view  it  suggests 
look  like  the  only  possible  reality,  and  any  other  appear  like 
fiction.  It  is  the  special  effect  of  forcible  impressions  pro- 
duced by  the  imagination,  that  it  seems  unnatural  and  artificial 
to  resist  them  ; — that  imagination  looks  like  reason,  and  reason 
like  imagination.  Human  nature  is  operated  on  by  mighty 
currents,  which  carry  it  in  different  directions  ;  nor  can  science 
or  philosophy,  any  more  than  action,  be  conducted  without 
such  impulses.  Which  current  shall  we  trust  ourselves  to  ? 
What  is  imagination,  and  what  is  reason  within  us  ?  The 
appeal  must  be  made  to  our  whole  nature — for  nature  as  a 
whole  corrects  the  impetus  of  particular  movements. 

2.  I  would  remark  with  great  respect,  and  knowing  that  the 
liability  is  shared  by  other  departments  of  knowledge  as  well, 
that  physical  science  is  capable — if  I  may  dare  to  say  such  a 
thing — of  breeding  crotchets.  A  curious  attitude  of  opposi- 
tion to  common  sense  is,  I  say,  noticeable  as  an  occasional 
feature  of  the  scientific  mind,  rising  up  at  sudden  turns.  It  is 
a  phenomenon  to  be  attended  to.  We  speak  of  poetry, 
romance,  religious  enthusiasm,  generating  strange  fancies  ;  but 
nothing  can  exceed  the  odd  and  unaccountable  convictions  which 
science  sometimes  takes  up.  Can  there,  for  instance,  be  found  a 
more  curious  quarrel  with  common  sense,  than  that  antipathy 
which  some  scientific  schools,  especially  the  French  school, 
entertain  to  the  idea  of  design  in  nature,  so  thrust  upon  us  by 
nature  ?  The  vindication  of  physical  causes  can  hardly  be 
considered  as  more  than  a  decent  disguise  for  this  grotesque 
prejudice  of  science ;  because  it  is  so  obvious  that  physical 


Physical  Science  and  Theology.  23 

causes  can  produce  a  chaos  just  as  much  as  they  can  produce  a 
harmony  or  system  ;  that  they  are  common  to  arrangement  and 
disorder,  and  therefore  cannot  in  themselves  account  for 
arrangement.  Again,  take  the  strange  antipathy  of  one  great 
inductive  school  to  the  idea  of  intuitive  or  necessary  truth ; 
everything  with  them  is  induction — even  truths  of  mathe- 
matics, even  truths  of  arithmetic.  That  two  and  three  make 
five  has  been  "  invariably  observed:"  in  no  single  instance  have 
we  seen  them  produce  any  other  number.  It  is  what  is  called 
a  "  completed  induction,"  that  is,  as  far  as  our  opportunities  of 
observation  go ;  but  not  necessary ;  and  if  I  understand  Mr. 
Mill  aright,  he  thinks  it  conceivable  that  in  one  of  the  heavenly 
bodies  the  result  might  be  different.  These  curious  scienti- 
fically generated  points  of  view,  these  eccentric  products  of  the 
scientific  mind,  show  that  science  has,  as  a  mental  pursuit, 
its  faulty  habits,  and  that  it  can  breed  its  own  class  of  pre- 
judices— aspects  of  things,  caught  in  the  first  instance  by 
the  mind  in  peculiar  junctures  and  angles  of  thought,  and 
then  permanently  stamped  upon  the  intellect. 

3.  I  would  remark  respecting  this  forcible  impression  as  to 
the  impossibility  of  an  interruption  of  the  order  of  nature,  that 
scientific  men  are  in  this  instance  doing  what  they  generally 
disclaim  doing — theologising :   for  unquestionably    this   is   a 
theological  conclusion ;  it  affects  the  nature  and  the  power  of 
the  Deity.     Their  general  posture  is  that  of  claiming  the  right 
to  investigate  facts  without  being  interfered  with  by  theology  ; 
arid  there  is  j  ustice  in  this  claim ;  but  here  they  leave   the 
position  of  physical  investigation,  and  diverge  from  the  dis- 
covery of  facts,  to  drawing  a  theological  conclusion  from  them. 

4.  But,  lastly,  scientific  men  are  not  only  theologising  in 
this  instance,  but  theologising  altogether  prematurely  ;  they  are 
judging  about  the  Deity  before  they  have  a  revelation  of  Him. 
The  mechanical  laws  of  nature  do  not  of  themselves  reveal 
Him ;  man  alone  is  the  revelation  of  God.     Let  it  be  granted 
then,   that  a   person   might   argue   from    the    material    and 
mechanical    laws    of    nature,    taken   by   themselves,   to   the 
inviolability  of  the  laws  of  nature.     Allow  him  to  say,  looking 
simply  to  these  laws,  "  I  do  not  catch  here  any  glimpse  of  a 


24  Physical  Science  and  Theology. 

power  which  can  interrupt  nature  :  I  see  motion,  orderly 
motion,  but  that  motion  does  not  hint  at  anything  which  can 
stop  it :  I  must  regard,  therefore,  this  as  an  alien,  arbitrary 
idea,  and  gratuitous  fiction  of  the  mind."  But  has  he  in  these 
laws  the  whole  of  nature  before  him  ?  No ;  he  omits  the 
human  soul,  which  has  a  distinct,  a  strong  and  vigorous 
argument  of  its  own  on  this  subject.  All  soul,  being  conscious 
of  will  itself,  declares  for  a  Deity  with  will,  upon  which  an 
interrupting  power  necessarily  follows  ;  and  soul,  as  has  been 
said,  is  a  fact  in  nature,  its  consciousnesses  are  facts  in  nature. 
This,  which  is  disdainfully  called  the  "old  theological 
argument  for  miracles,"  is  theological  only  in  its  conclusion ; 
its  premisses  are,  in  the  true  sense,  physical. 

It  must  be  observed  that  scientific  men  are  by  the  order  of 
their  task  and  pursuit  placed  at  a  disadvantage  with  respect 
to  a  theological  conclusion  from  nature — for  this  reason.  A 
mechanical  First  Cause  does  not  interrupt  nature,  because  it 
has  no  will ;  man,  as  I  have  said,  reveals  a  will  in  nature,  a 
moral  power.  It  is  therefore  not  from  the  mechanical  begin- 
nings and  elements  of  nature,  but  from  the  user  and  the  end 
of  nature — Man ;  it  is  from  the  spiritual  life  in  nature  that  we 
obtain  the  idea  of  a  First  Cause  that  can  interrupt  nature. 
But  this  being  the  case,  scientific  men  have,  by  the  very  order 
of  their  pursuit,  to  do  with  the  beginnings  of  nature  and  not 
with  the  end,  with  the  mechanical  and  not  with  the  spiritual 
power  in  nature.  They  see  the  grand  edifice,  as  it  were, 
upside  down,  they  look  away  from  themselves,  from  man,  from 
soul,  from  mind,  to  matter,  to  mechanism,  to  material  law. 
They  look  in  a  direction  which  is  dictated  by  the  very  investi- 
gating purpose  of  their  occupation  itself,  but  which  has  still 
the  inherent  defect  of  setting  nature  in  a  wrong  position  before 
them.  They  look  at  nature,  indeed,  with  the  mind,  with  the 
rational  soul,  but  working  with  it  as  an  instrument,  not  con- 
templating it  as  an  object :  as  the  eye  sees  other  things,  but 
not  itself,  the  soul  overlooks  itself  in  its  survey  of  the  universe. 
This  is  an  attitude  essential  for  the  purpose  of  investigation, 
but  an  artificial  and  inverted  one  for  the  view  of  nature.  It  is 
the  higher  part  of  nature  which  interprets  the  lower.  Nature 


Physical  Science  and  Theology.  25 

ascends  from  matter  to  its  head  and  vertex, — Man ;  and  we 
ought  to  look  at  it  in  the  direction  of  its  ascent,  from  its  base 
to  its  summit,  like  a  building,  not  reversely,  away  from  its 
vertex  to  its  mechanical  base.  This  is  the  upside-down  posi- 
tion of  nature  in  the  process  of  physical  analysis ;  which 
process  therefore,  however  the  fault  may  admit  of  being  cor- 
rected, in  itself  puts  man  at  a  disadvantage  with  respect  to 
the  idea  of  nature  as  a  whole.  It  is  like  the  case  of  some 
peculiar  occupation  which  may  be  necessary  for  the  community, 
but  which  disadvantages  those  employed  in  it  in  some  particu- 
lar organ  or  function.  Perpetual  conversance  with  beginnings 
operates  in  this  way.  An  incorrect  attitude  which  is  assumed 
for  a  special  purpose,  and  thrown  aside  afterwards,  does  no 
harm,  but  it  is  injurious  if  it  becomes  the  habitual  position  of 
the  mind.  He  who  looks  always  to  the  mechanics  of  nature 
will  never  see  a  God  there ;  he  looks  far  off,  and  does  not  see 
what  is  close  to  him — the  evidence  of  a  God  which  is  within 
him. 


26 


III.— JEWISH  AND  HEATHEN  CONCEPTIONS  OF  A 
FUTURE  STATE. 

IT  has  been  remarked  by  those  who  have  wished  to  derogate 
from  the  value  and  rank  of  the  Jewish  dispensation,  that  the 
Jews  were  worse  off  than  the  Pagans  in  one  important  point, 
namely,  that  they  were  without  a  doctrine  of  a  future  state, 
whereas  Paganism  taught  that  doctrine.  This  is  a  question,  then, 
not  only  of  speculative  interest,  but  of  great  moment,  consider- 
ing the  estimate  of  a  Divine  dispensation  is  affected  by  it.  But 
in  order  to  decide  it,  we  must  first  have  before  us  with  some 
accuracy  what  the  Pagan  doctrine  was,  and  what  the  Jewish 
absence  of  doctrine  was  ;  for  we  must  know  both  of  these  con- 
ditions of  thought  in  order  to  compare  them  together;  and 
judge  whether  the  positive  conception  of  the  Pagan  was,  being 
compared  with  the  absence  of  definite  conception  in  Judaism, 
a  ground  of  superiority  to  him.  Again  we  cannot  estimate  the 
Jewish  attitude  towards  a  Future  State  without  a  reference  to 
the  Christian  conception  of  a  "Future  State,  for  which  the  con- 
dition of  the  Jew  was  a  preparation.  Our  subject  therefore 
ranges  itself  under  the  following  heads  : — 

I.  The  Pagan  conception  of  a  Future  State. 

II.  The  Christian  conception. 

III.  The  Jewish  preparatory  absence  of  conception. 

IV.  Comparison  of  Judaism  and  Paganism  on  this  point. 

I.  The  Pagan  conception  of  a  Future  State. 

The  doctrine  of  a  Future  State,  or  the  Immortality  of  the 
Soul,  and  the  Gospel  doctrine  of  Eternal  Life,  are  two  distinct 
doctrines.  The  former  is  the  general  doctrine  of  a  continuance 


Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions  of  a  Future  State.  27 

of  the  soul's  existence,  and  is  necessary  for  the  doctrine  of 
Eternal  Life ;  because  the  soul  must  continue  to  exist  first  of 
all,  in  order  that  it  may  exist  in  that  way  which  is  expressed 
by  the  doctrine  of  Eternal  Life.  But  the  former  is  only  the 
substratum,  or,  as  we  may  call  it,  the  rough  material  out  of 
which  the  doctrine  of  Eternal  Life  is  formed.  That  rough 
material  was  worked  up  into  many  different  forms,  before  the 
ultimate  and  true  or  normal  form  of  it  was  produced  in  the 
Gospel.  When  persons  speak  then  of  the  Pagan  and  the 
Christian  doctrines  of  a  Future  State  as  if  Paganism  had  been 
beforehand  with  the  Gospel  on  this  subject,  and  had  made 
the  same  discovery  which  the  Gospel  made  before  the  Gospel 
made  it,  they  speak  incorrectly.  The  two,  the  Pagan  and 
Christian,  are  not  the  same  doctrines. 

The  general  doctrine  of  a  Future  State  or  the  immortality 
of  the  soul  was  worked  up  in  three  principal  forms  in  Pagan- 
ism, which  we  may  call  respectively  the  Future  State  of  the 
Poets,  the  doctrine  of  the  Mysteries,  and  the  doctrine  of 
Philosophy.  The  division  will  suffice  for  practical  purposes, 
although  the  heads  of  it  run  partially  into  each  other,  and  both 
the  Mysteries,  and,  in  time,  Poetry,  were  coloured  by  Philosophy. 

1.  The  Future  State  of  ancient  legend  and  poetry  was  a 
state  of  shadowy,  unreal,  and  ghost-like  existence ;  that  is  to 
say,  it  was  not  existence,  not  true  life  at  all.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  other  world  were  shades,  that  is,  they  were  men  deprived 
of  half  their  nature,  and  their  existence  was  altogether  without 
solidity ;  airy,  dreamy,  and  deceptive,  even  in  their  own  eyes. 
They  remembered  what  they  had  been,  and  how  far  they 
fell  short  of  that ;  they  remembered  how  truly  alive  they  had 
been  upon  earth,  and  what  a  solid  reality  their  existence  was 
then,  only  to  compare  it  with  their  present  ambiguous  condi- 
tion, which  was  half  way  between  life  and  death ;  not  life,  for 
it  wanted  all  the  corporeal  powers  and  sensations  which  were 
essential  to  being  properly  alive ;  not  death,  for  they  still,  in 
a  sense,  were;  they  were  still  themselves,  and  conscious  of 
themselves.  The  son  in  the  old  fables  goes  down  to  the 
infernal  regions,  sees  the  shade  of  his  father,  and  forgetting 
for  a  moment  the  nature  of  departed  spirits  is  going  to  embrace 


28  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

him,  but  only  clasps  the  air,  and  is  bitterly  reminded  of  the 
truth  that  the  form  which  is  so  dear  to  him  is  but  a  vision 
that  meets  the  eye,  and  wants  the  solidity  of  life. 

The  two  great  Epic  poets  of  antiquity  both  describe  the 
state  of  the  dead.  Criticism  has  justly  awarded  to  Homer's 
representation  the  praise  of  life-like  simplicity  and  vigour  — 
that  it  is  the  representation  of  a  real  world  of  ghosts  with  an 
almost  matter-of-fact  truth  imparted  to  it  —  such  truth  of  con- 
ception, that  is,  as  would  naturally  arise  in  a  strong  imagination 
regarding  the  scene  as  a  real  one.  The  shades  have  such 
ways  and  habits  as  gregarious  ghosts  might  be  supposed  to 
have;  the  agitation  and  impetuous  flutter  of  airy  shadowy 
beings  ;  the  rushings  to  and  fro  in  crowds,  the  thick  gather- 
ings, and  the  easy  dispersions.  They  collect  with  excited 
curiosity  about  the  stranger  who  has  arrived,  and,  incommoding 
him  by  closing  in  upon  him  with  their  cloudy  shapes,  have  to 
be  kept  off  at  the  sword's  point  : 

at  S*  aye/oovro 


)  ov8'  eiwv 
CU/A<XTOS  atrcrov  i/xev.1 

Achilles  expresses  exactly  the  disgust  which  a  hero  and  a 
powerful  man,  with  enormous  muscular  strength  and  activities, 
fiery  temperament  and  boundless  courage,  might  be  supposed 
to  feel  at  finding  himself  converted  into  a  thin  mist.  Homer 
thus  communicates  a  genuine  character  and  naturalness  to 
the  other  world  as  the  habitation  of  a  population  of  ghosts  ; 
he  vivifies  in  its  own  way  a  subterranean  world  ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  touches  of  life  and  nature  which  occur  in 
Virgil's  description  belong  to  this  upper  world  really,  and  not 
to  the  subterranean  one  ;  they  are  derived  from  the  spectacles 
of  human  sorrow  around  us,  from  the  sad  page  of  earthly 
destiny,  and  the  struggles  of  unhappy  man  in  this  mortal  state. 

1  Odyssey,  Book  xi.  36,  37,  48-50. 

'         Forth  from  the  infernal  gloom  the  phantoms  trooping  poured, 
Shadows  that  once  were  men.     I  drew  my  biting  sword, 
That  hung  anear  my  thigh,  and  sitting  there  forbade 
If  any  feeble  ghost  to  lap  the  blood  essayed. 


of  a  Future  State.  29 

The  poet  utters  piercing  notes,  and  living  nature  speaks  in 
the  allusions  to  the  griefs,  sufferings,  and  wrongs  of  human  life  ; 
but  the  subterranean  world  which  he  professes  to  describe  lies 
before  him  as  a  scene  upon  canvas  rather  than  an  actual  scene, 
displaying  the  softest  and  most  delicate  colouring,  and  the 
most  sublime  lights  and  shadows,  but  asleep. 

The  poetical  account,  then,  represented  existence  after  death 
as  an  unsubstantial  shadow,  and  for  that  reason  fell  completely 
short  of  the  true  doctrine  of  a  Future  State.  To  constitute  a 
true  existence,  such  existence  must  convey  to  its  possessor  the 
sense  of  its  reality  and  solidity.  A  man  made  of  shadow  is 
not  a  real  man.  Solidity  is  guaranteed  to  the  Christian's 
future  life  by  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body. 
The  resurrection  of  the  body  is  indeed  an  insoluble  mystery ; 
the  evidence  of  it  rests  upon  the  evidences  of  revelation ;  but, 
assumed  to  be  true,  the  effect  of  this  doctrine  upon  the  nature  of 
a  future  state  is  plain,  namely,  that  it  provides  for  the  solidity 
of  our  existence  in  that  state.  It  secures  the  truth  and  com- 
pleteness of  the  life  in  question ;  that  it  will  have  everything 
analogous  to  those  properties  of  this  earthly  life  which  gives  to 
this  earthly  life  its  reality ;  qualities  which  truly  correspond  to 
the  palpableness  and  tangibleness  of  our  present  corporeal 
nature ;  that  there  will  not  be  the  slightest  sense  of  defective- 
ness  in  it  on  that  score  ;  and  that  however  spiritual  it  will  not 
be  an  atom  less  solid  than  this  present  life.  This  doctrine 
provides  in  short  that  the  life  hereafter  will  be  no  halluci- 
nation, no  deception,  no  half  life,  perplexing  the  possessor  by 
its  ambiguity,  and  paining  him  with  the  sense  of  a  void  un- 
supplied,  and  a  natural  appetite  for  life  unsatisfied ;  but  that 
we  shall  be  and  shall  feel  ourselves  to  be  as  thoroughly  alive 
then  as  we  are  now. 

It  has  been  remarked  indeed  by  an  acute  writer  that  the 
shadowy  character  which  the  ancients  attributed  to  existence 
after  death  was  a  mode  of  betraying  their  own  want  of  true 
belief  in  that  existence.1  When  we  reflect,  we  think  of  a  person 

1  Whately's  Revelation  of  a  Future  State  (Sect.  4).  He  is  more  discriminat- 
ing than  Warburton,  who  is  misled  by  the  imagery  of  a  future  life  in  the 
Pagan  legends,  and  does  not  see  the  want  of  true  belief  contained  in  this 
very  imagery,  and  the  peciiliar  characteristics  of  it. 


30  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

either  as  existing  or  not  existing ;  we  know  that  there  is  no 
medium  between  the  two,  because,  as  Aristotle  says,  "  substance 
does  not  admit  of  degrees,"  and  we  know  that  doubt  about  a 
person's  existence  can  only  arise  from  our  ignorance  which  of 
two  alternatives,  his  existence  or  his  non-existence,  is  true. 
But  though  this  state  of  the  case  is  very  clear  to  us  when  we 
reflect,  the  loose  imagination  of  mankind  is  apt  to  confuse 
doubt  and  the  object  of  doubt  together,  and  to  attribute  to 
the  object  of  doubt  that  ambiguity  and  uncertainty  which  only 
exists  in  our  own  minds  respecting  it ;  and  this  confusion  it 
expresses  by  a  compromise  which  gives  to  the  object  itself  a 
midway  and  half-existence  between  being  and  not  being.  Thus 
inaccurate  minds  regard  contingency  as  a  quality  inherent  in 
the  contingent  events  themselves,  instead  of  only,  as  it  is,  an 
uncertainty  in  their  own  minds  respecting  those  events,  which 
in  themselves  must  either  be  or  not  be.  And  on  the  same 
principle  the  heathen  attributed  a  half  existence  to  the 
departed;  by  which  they  really  expressed  their  own  uncer- 
tainty whether  they  really  did  exist  or  not.  Eeflecting  men 
indeed  put  that  doubt  before  them  in  its  true  light,  as  an 
uncertainty  residing  in  their  own  minds ;  but  the  majority 
made  it  an  ambiguity  and  defectiveness  in  the  future  condition 
itself. 

2.  If  we  go  from  the  field  of  legend  and  popular  fancy  to  a 
more  regular  treatment  of  the  doctrine,  we  come  across  corrup- 
tions which  wholly  degrade  the  doctrine.  With  respect  to  the 
inculcation  of  a  future  state  in  the  ancient  mysteries,  two 
points  must  be  observed. 

In  the  first  place  it  must  be  remarked  that  it  was  wholly 
unnatural,  and  betrayed  a  want  of  real  conviction  of  the  truth 
of  the  doctrine,  that  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state  should  be 
taught  at  all  in  the  form  of  a  mystery  or  secret.  Why  teach 
such  a  doctrine  in  such  a  way  ?  The  true  evidence  of  a  future 
state  was  strictly  public  evidence,  and  lay  in  the  instincts  of 
every  heart.  Why  then  adulterate  by  quackery  a  truth  of 
nature,  and  supplant  the  light  of  day  by  the  fictitious  charm  of 
a  dark  secret,  if  it  were  not  that  men  believed  this  false  evidence 
more  than  they  did  the  true  ?  Let  a  mystagogue  take  them 


of  a  Future  State.  31 

into  the  dark,  conjure  up  an  awful  scene,  and  then  tell  them 
as  a  secret  that  there  is  life  beyond  the  grave,  and  they  think 
they  believe  ;  but  they  do  not  believe  the  presage  of  their  own 
conscience  which  is  the  voice  of  God  speaking  to  them.  Now 
this  belief  is  not  genuine  belief,  it  is  a  counterfeit ;  it  is  bred 
out  of  the  dark,  and  it  vanishes  with  the  day.  True  belief 
rests  upon  a  public  ground,  upon  the  evidence  which  is  con- 
tained in  our  common  human  nature,  human  conscience,  and 
human  reason.  That  faith  which  springs  from  stage  mystery 
is  no  faith  to  last  in  ordinary  life.  A  secret  indeed,  and  to  be 
kept  as  such,  not  to  be  promulgated,  but  to  remain  the  privi- 
lege of  the  initiated  !  what  true  belief  would  submit  to  such 
terms  as  these  ?  It  is  the  first  impulse  of  the  human  heart, 
when  it  really  believes  a  truth  of  such  universal  interest,  to 
communicate  it.  All  mankind  are  eager  to  know  something 
about  what  is  to  become  of  them  when  they  die.  It  is  the 
pressing  want  of  the  human  heart.  If  I  really  believe,  then, 
that  there  is  a  future  life,  shall  I  keep  this  a  secret  ?  No, 
I  will  tell  it  to  the  whole  world.  It  is  a  proof  that  I  only 
half  believe  it  myself,  if  I  keep  it  shut  up  in  my  own 
thoughts.  It  is  of  the  essence  of  true  belief  to  be  commu- 
nicative ;  as  soon  as  man  felt  really  convinced  of  a  future  life, 
he  preached  it. 

But  in  the  next  place  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state,  as  taught 
in  the  mysteries,  contracted  that  monstrous  corruption,  which 
preyed  like  a  cancer  upon  all  the  belief  in  the  soul's  immor- 
tality which  existed  in  the  ancient  world,  draining  whatever 
there  was  of  natural  truth  in  it — the  doctrine  of  Metempsy- 
chosis; that  the  souls  migrated  at  death  into  another  body, 
passing  through  a  succession  of  earthly  lives ;  so  that  a  man 
went  on  being  born  into  this  world  again  as  other  men.  The 
doctrine  of  Metempsychosis  is  an  organic  corruption  of  the 
conception  of  a  future  life,  because  it  interferes  with  that  which 
lies  at  the  very  root  of  such  a  conception — personal  identity. 
I  am  the  same  person  throughout  the  whole  of  my  life  here  : 
Eternal  Life  is  being  the  same  person  throughout  eternity.  But 
the  doctrine  of  Metempsychosis  utterly  confounds,  at  the  very 
outset,  this  elementary  notion.  A  man  becomes  several  men 


3  2  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

in  succession.  A  man  goes  through  in  one  life  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  Pythagoras  ;  he  goes  through  another  life  with 
the  consciousness  of  being  Pericles  ;  through  a  third  life  with 
the  consciousness  of  being  Julius  Caesar;  he  goes  through  a 
fourth  life  with  the  consciousness  of  being  Vespasian. 

These  successive  divided  periods  of  consciousness,  in  each 
of  which  the  man  thinks  himself  to  be  the  individual  of  that 
period  alone,  are  but  the  outer  coat  and  film  of  one  pervading 
personality.  Under  the  proviso  of  this  one  check  upon  his 
own  multiplication — that  if  he  cannot  be  many  men  alive  at 
the  same  moment  of  time — he  may  become  any  number  of 
persons  succeeding  each  other  in  unconscious  unbroken  succes- 
sion while  the  world  lasts.1  But  in  this  career  of  one  person 
who  is  an  innumerable  crowd  of  persons,  personal  identity  is 
confounded  wholly,  and  so  a  future  life  at  the  root  vitiated. 
Shall  I  who  live  now  be  the  same  person  that  will  live  in  a 
future  life,  or  will  that  person  be  different  from  myself?  I 
cannot  understand  upon  this  doctrine  how  he  will  be  the 
same  person  with  myself;  but  if  he  will  be  different  persons, 
I  have  no  interest  in  the  question  of  eternity  at  all. 

The  doctrine  of  Metempsychosis  has  appeared  to  some 
a  natural  doctrine ;  and  they  have  accounted  for  its  popu- 
larity in  the  ancient  world  on  the  score  of  its  naturalness. 
The  notion  did  not  launch  the  thought  into  another  world, 
but  kept  life  within  the  region  of  sense  and  this  world  ;  which 
to  some  is  more  natural.  But  it  is  a  natural  doctrine  in  a 
very  superficial  sense  only.  What  becomes  of  a  man  when 
he  dies?  It  was  an  obvious  and  very  easy  conjecture  to 
suppose  that  he  came  up  to  the  surface  of  life  again  in 
another  body ;  into  a  world  one  endless  succession  of  births 
and  deaths,  where  the  sun  of  life  is  always  setting  in  one  form 
and  rising  in  another.  A  spectator  then  makes  the  off-hand 
guess  that  Nature  does  not  waste  her  old  materials  in  supply- 
ing the  perpetual  demand  upon  her,  but  uses  the  treasury  of 
past  life  to  fill  up  the  void  of  the  future.  But  though  the 
doctrine  offers  a  coarse  puerile  solution  to  the  enigma  of  human 
life,  it  is  totally  repugnant  to  the  inner  instinct  of  man ;  dis- 

1  See  Essays,  Historical  and  Theological,  vol.  ii.,  "Indian  Conversion." 


of  a  Future  State.  33 

organising  his  whole  conception  of  himself,  and  cutting  off 
his  communication  with  futurity.  Brought  to  this  inner 
touchstone,  it  is  a  totally  unnatural  doctrine,  one  from  which 
Nature  revolts ;  no  grosser  corruption  has  ever  issued  out  of 
the  chambers  of  speculation. 

The  idea,  indeed,  is  singularly  adapted  to  the  Brahrnanical 
basis  of  total  scepticism — that  point  of  view  from  which  the 
whole  of  present  existence,  from  the  peel  to  the  core,  from  the 
coat  of  matter  to  the  very  centre  of  consciousness,  is  regarded 
as  a  mere  surface  and  film  which  rolls  away  in  the  presence  of 
the  Infinite  Mind.  But  it  is  melancholy  to  see  Plato  reversing, 
remodelling,  and  constructing  a  scientific  basis  for  the  gross 
and  corrupt  absurdity  of  Metempsychosis,  establishing  it  upon 
the  principle  of  mutual  generation  of  contraries,  upon  which 
ensued  an  endless  alternation  of  death  issuing  in  life  and  life 
in  death;  neither  ending  in  itself,  but  always  in  its  opposite. 
The  great  vortex  of  the  universe  was  thus  always  casting  up 
its  waves  to  the  surface,  and  re-absorbing  them'  by  turns  into 
the  depths  below ;  discharging  the  vast  resources  of  life,  and 
re-collecting  them ;  sending  forth  being  into  the  upper  world 
and  into  corporeal  frames,  arid  gathering  it  back  again  into 
the  abyss  of  death,  to  send  it  forth  again  when  wanted.  The 
mighty  frame  of  the  universe  was  thus  sustained  by  an  equi- 
librium which  kept  up  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  production 
ever  equal  to  the  demand,  saved  the  old  stock  of  life  for  fresh 
supply,  and  instantly  replenished  the  stream  from  the  ancient 
reservoir.  Otherwise,  if  the  old  material  failed  and  passed 
away  altogether,  and  was  never  available  for  use  again,  pro- 
duction must  stop,  and  everything  come  to  an  end. 

3.  We  come  now  from  the  popular  legendary  doctrine, 
and  from  the  mysteries,  to  the  philosophical  doctrine  of  a 
future  state.  The  ancient  philosophers  use  sublime  language 
about  the  soul ;  they  assert  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  they 
speak  of  it  as  in  its  own  nature  indestructible.  A  person  who 
comes  across  this  language  says  the  ancient  philosophers 
believed  in  a  future  state.  But  when  we  examine  what  the 
sense  was  in  which  they  held  the  doctrine,  what  they  meant 
by  the  soul  living  after  death,  we  find  that  the  idea  was  a 

c 


34  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

totally  different  one  from  our  own,  we  find  that  they  meant 
by  a  future  state  something  which  we  should  regard  as  a 
denied  of  it ;  namely,  that  the  soul  upon  death  was  re- 
absorbed  into  the  Universal  Soul,  and  with  all  its  individuality 
decomposed  and  resolved  into  the  great  Unity  and  Whole. 
The  resolution  into  TO  ev  professed  to  preserve  the  essence  or 
substance  of  the  soul,  safe  for  ever  from  extinction,  but 
without  distinct  sensations,  or  consciousness,  or  any  peculiar 
and  separate  existence  of  its  own ;  stripped  of  all  these,  it  was 
reduced  to  its  common  life  and  elementary  nature,  and  lived, 
not  as  this  or  that  soul,  but  as  soul.  The  soul  was  thus 
absorbed  into  the  Deity  at  death,  because  it  was  a  part  of  the 
Deity.  This  latter  idea  was  at  the  root  of  the  philosophic 
doctrine  of  resolution  into  TO  ev.  The  soul  was,  according  to 
ancient  philosophy,  a  portion  of  God — not  made  or  produced 
by  Him,  but  an  absolute  fraction  of  Him;  the  idea  was 
explained  by  the  illustration  of  a  vessel  in  the  sea  holding 
water  that  has  got  into  it  out  of  the  sea ;  which  water  floats 
for  a  time  within  its  receptacle  distinct  from  the  ocean  around 
it ;  but  upon  a  fracture  of  the  vessel  mingles  with  the  ocean 
again.  The  soul  is  part  of  God,  or  the  Universal  Soul,  just  as 
the  water  in  the  vessel  is  part  of  the  sea ;  it  is  contained  for 
a  time  within  the  receptacle  of  a  human  personality,  and  then 
mingles  with  the  Divine  essence  again. 

Arrian,  the  interpreter  of  Epictetus,  uses  almost  a  bolder 
image.  I  am,  he  says,  as  a  man  a  part  of  the  TO  irav,  as  an 
hour  is  part  of  the  day.1  That  is  to  say,  the  whole,  or  TO  irav. 
being  God  in  this  philosophy,  a  man  is  part  of  God,  just  as 
an  hour  is  part  of  the  day.  The  soul,  says  Plutarch,  is  not  so 
much  the  work  and  production  of  God,  as  a  part  of  Him,  nor 


is  it  made  by  Him,  but  from  Him  and  out  of  Him.  Plato 
laid  the  foundation  of  this  language  in  his  IVou?  ael  #eo<?. 
Seneca  says,  "Why  should  you  not  believe  something  to  be 
divine  in  him  who  is  part  of  the  Godhead — Dei  pars  ?  That 
whole  in  which  we  are  contained  is  One,  and  that  One  is  God, 

1  Ei/ii  dvOpwiros,  /J,£pos  T&V  Trdvrwv,  tbs  &pa  Tjfttpas. 

*'H  8£  \f/vxT]—otK  Zpyov  €<TTI  roO  Oeou  p.t>vov  dXXA,   /cat  fttpos — oi}5"TlT  avrov, 
dXX'  'All'  ftVToC,  ical  'E3  O.VTOV  ytyovev. 


of  a  Future  State.  35 

and  we  are  His  companions  and  members."  ]  Epictetus  says, 
"  The  souls  of  men  have  the  nearest  relation  to  God,  as  being 
parts  or  fragments  of  Him  discerped  and  torn  from  His  sub- 
stance."2 The  soul  being  part  of  God,  then,  and  separated 
and  broken  off  from  Him  at  birth,  is  reunited  to  God,  that  is, 
to  TO  ev  or  TO  Trav,  at  death ;  as  re-absorbed  into  the  Universal 
Soul  from  which  it  was  divided.  "You  have  hitherto  existed 
as  a  part,"  says  Marcus  Antoninus ;  "  you  will  therefore  be 
absorbed  and  lost  in  the  substance  that  produced  you.  .  .  . 
Every  body  will  be  soon  lost  and  buried  in  the  Universal 
Substance.  Every  soul  will  be  soon  absorbed  and  sunk  in  the 
Universal  Nature."3 

Such  a  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  did  not  deceive 
the  Fathers,  who  attacked  especially  the  blasphemy  of  the 
foundation  on  which  it  rested,  that  the  soul  was  part  of  God. 
They  saw  the  difference  between  the  true  and  the  false 
sublime,  and  denounced  that  exaltation  of  the  human  soul  to 
the  rank  of  a  divine  substance,  which  ended  in  its  reduction 
into  nothing.  Jerome  protests  against  those  "  qui  hominem 
exzequant  Deo,  et  de  ejus  dicuiit  esse  substantial*  Tertullian 
does  the  same ;  Augustine  tells  those  "  who  could  not  for 
shame  say  that  the  body  was  God,  and  yet  said  that  the  soul 
was,"  that  they  inserted  mutability  into  the  Divine  nature. 
What,  he  says,  do  you  assert  wanton,  unjust,  impious  parts  of 
God?  do  you  mean  to  say,  "Dei  partem  vapulare,  cum  puer 
vapulat?"'  Some  Fathers  indeed  went  so  far  in  this  opposition 
to  the  divinity  of  the  soul,  that  they  maintained  its  materiality, 
and  Dodwell,  upon  the  strength  of  their  language,  actually 
maintained  the  corporeal  nature  of  the  soul  as  a  doctrine  of 
the  Fathers. 

If  we  turn  to  the  origin  of  this  assertion  of  ancient  philo- 
sophy, that  the  soul  was  part  of  God,  the  ancients  seem 
to  have  considered  that  they  were  compelled  to  adopt  this 
position  by  two  arguments  of  irresistible  cogency  from  two 
different  quarters.  One  was  from  the  nature  of  God,  that  the 

1  Ep.  92.  a  Epict.  Diss.  ii.  8,  12. 

8  EZs'Eavrfo',  Lib.  ii.  cap.  12. 

4  Ctesiphon  adver.  Pelag.  *  De  Civ.  Dei,  viii.  5. 


36  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

universal  soul  contained  all  individual  souls  as  portions  of 
itself.  The  other  was  from  the  nature  of  the  soul.  The  ancient 
mind  was  imprisoned  within  the  vice  of  that  old  axiom  that 
whatever  is  generated  must  decay.  This  being  adopted  as  a 
self-evident  truth,  it  followed  upon  it  that  the  soul  must 
be  ungenerated,  that  is,  must  have  an  eternal  pre-existence 
if  it  is  to  have  an  eternal  after-existence.  "  It  is  a  thing 
very  well  known,"  says  Cudworth,  "that  according  to  the 
sense  of  philosophers,  these  two  things  were  always  included 
together,  in  that  one  opinion  of  the  soul's  immortality,  namely, 
its  pre-existence,  as  well  as  its  post-existence.  Neither  was 
there  ever  any  of  the  ancients  before  Christianity  that  held 
the  soul's  future  permanency  after  death,  who  did  not  likewise 
assert  its  pre-existence ;  they  clearly  perceiving  that  if  it  was 
once  granted  that  the  soul  was  generated,  it  could  never  be 
proved  but  that  it  might  not  also  be  corrupted,  and  therefore 
the  assertors  of  the  soul's  immortality  commonly  began  here,  first 
to  prove  its  pre-existence."1  In  what  mode  then  did  the  soul 
exist  in  this  eternity,  a  parte  ante  ?  "  If  eternal,"  says  War- 
burton,  giving  the  ancient  argument,  "  it  must  be  either  inde- 
pendent of  God  or  part  of  His  substance.  Independent  it 
could  not  be,  for  there  can  be  but  one  independent  being  of  the 
same  kind  of  substance.  The  ancients  indeed  thought  it  no 
absurdity  to  say  that  God  and  Matter  were  both  self- existent, 
but  they  allowed  no  third ;  therefore  they  must  needs  conclude 
that  it  was  part  of  God."2  The  soul  could  not  have  lived  from 
all  eternity  a  separate  individual  life  of  its  own ;  that  would 
be  to  make  every  soul  a  distinct  God  ;  it  must  therefore  have 
existed  in  the  universal  soul.  It  was  then  at  birth  discerped 
from  the  universal  Substance,  and  at  death  it  will  be  resolved 
into  it  again.  Such  was  the  conclusion  of  the  ancients,  based 
upon  one,  as  it  seemed,  self-evident  axiom,  "whatever  was 
generated  must  decay  :"  therefore  whatever  was  not  to  decay 
must  be  ungenerated.  We  know  what  such  axioms  are  worth, 
but  they  were  under  the  yoke  of  these  semblances  of  truth ; 
they  could  see  no  alternative,  therefore,  between  making  the 
soul  mortal  and  making  it  divine,  and  thought  themselves 
1  Intellectual  System,  p.  38.  *  Divine  Legation,  Book  in.  Sect.  iv. 


of  a  Future  State.  37 

obliged  in  self-defence,  as  claimants  of  immortality,  to  endow 
the  soul  with  original,  self-existing,  indestructible  being ;  that 
is,  with  the  attributes  of  God.  The  whole  well-known  demon- 
stration of  the  soul's  immortality  which  Cicero  adopts  from 
Plato  derives  its  eternal  existence  from  the  premiss  of  self- 
existence.  But  the  usurpation  recoiled  upon  itself  in  the 
sequel ;  that  which  was  discerped  from  the  Divine  substance 
was  resolved  into  it  at  death,  and  the  soul  paid  for  its  false 
and  illegitimate  dignity  by  ultimate  impersonality. 

"  Pythagoras  and  Plato,"  says  Plutarch,  "  held  the  soul  to  be 
immortal,  for  that,  launching  forth  into  the  Soul  of  the  universe, 
it  returns  to  its  Parent  and  Original."1  We  must  distinguish 
between  Plato  the  divine  and  Plato  the  philosopher.  The 
exponent  of  old  Pagan  theology,  who  remodelled  and  dressed 
up  afresh  the  old  legendary  material,  took  one  ground ;  the 
philosopher  took  another.  But  the  philosophy  of  Plato  out- 
lasted his  theology,  and  his  metaphysical  basis  for  a  future 
state  produced  its  natural  results  in  the  doctrine  of  re-absorp- 
tion, upon  which  Plato  himself  verges,  and  which  became  the 
declared  doctrine  of  the  Platonists.  Socrates  seems  alone,  of 
all  the  ancient  philosophers,  to  have  rested  the  proof  of  a  future 
state  upon  a  moral  ground  solely;  and  as  a  consequence, 
although  his  belief  of  a  future  state  was  of  the  nature  of  a 
conjecture  rather  than  a  conviction,  still  his  idea  of  that  state 
was  that  of  personal  existence  without  speculative  alloy. 

Such  was  the  ancient  doctrine  of  a  future  state.  As  a 
popular  doctrine,  derived  from  legend,  it  represented  the 
future  life  as  an  ambiguous  and  a  half- existence,  oppressing 
the  departed  with  the  sense  of  an  utter  deficiency  in  their  state 
of  being, — being  indeed  more  dead  than  alive, — wandering  as 
they  did  to  and  fro  as  unsubstantial  shadows  and  ghosts  in 
the  subterranean  realms.  As  a  doctrine  taught  more  formally 
in  the  institutions  of  Paganism,  it  contracted  the  gross  corrup- 
tion of  Metempsychosis.  As  a  doctrine  of  philosophy,  it 
deprived  the  future  life  of  all  personality,  and  represented  it 
as  a  mere  absorption  of  the  particular  soul  in  the  universal 
soul.  We  have  evidently,  in  the  incoherent  and  debased  mass 

1  De  Plac.  Phil.,  Lib.  iv.  cap.  vii. 


38  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

of  sentiment  and  opinion  with  respect  to  the  future  state,  the 
wild  and  disordered  guesses  of  the  human  mind,  endeavouring 
to  construct  a  true  doctrine  of  a  future  state  before  it  had 
the  foundation  on  which  to  build  one, — the  foundation  of  an 
enlightened  conscience ;  a  moral  foundation.  In  all  this 
accumulation  of  imagery  and  speculation,  is  a  future  life  ever 
once  presented  to  us  as  a  life  that  is  worth  living  for  ?  Not 
once.  It  was  not  presented  in  that  aspect  in  the  legendary 
doctrine,  for  who  could  look  forward  with  joy  to  being  an 
unsubstantial  shadow  ?  It  was  not  in  the  gloomy  migrations 
of  Metempsychosis,  for  who  could  entertain  gladly,  or  even 
properly  entertain  at  all,  the  irrational  conception  of  being 
changed  into  a  different  unknown  person,  or  into  a  brute? 
It  was  not  in  the  philosophical  doctrine  of  futurity :  for  who 
could  look  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  loss  of  his  personal 
existence  ?  The  Pagan  turned  his  eye  from  the  dreary  pro- 
spect, and  said,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die," 
to-morrow  we  die  to  this  life,  and  is  there  any  other  life  to  care 
for  ?  What  evidence  is  there  of  that  point  of  view,  in  which 
we  regard  a  future  life,  existing  in  classical  ages  ?  The  crowd 
played  with  the  imagery  of  another  world,  but  it  had  no  place 
as  a  truth  in  their  hearts ;  nobody  lived  for  it.  How  could 
anybody  live  for  a  future  such  as  this  ? 

From  this  wild  medley  of  delusion  and  speculation  which 
composed  the  Pagan  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  we  shall  have 
to  turn  before  long  to  the  negative  and  neutral  creed  of  the 
ancient  Jew.  But  before  we  can  estimate  properly  the  con- 
dition of  belief  on  this  subject,  we  must  place  before  us  that 
doctrine  for  which  the  condition  of  the  Jew  was  a  preparation, 
viz.,  the  Christian  conception  of  a  future  life.  It  is  only  when 
the  end  is  before  us  that  the  means  towards  it  can  be  under- 
stood ;  the  germ  of  the  true  doctrine  can  only  be  judged  of  in 
relation  to  the  true  doctrine  itself. 

II.  The  Christian  conception  of  a  Future  State. 
1.  The  Gospel  made  the  announcement  of  the  Life  Everlast- 
ing ;  no  second  mortal  life  which  rises  in  birth  and  sets  in  death, 
but  an  eternal  and  unclosing  day  which  has  no  night.     Once 
does  man  die,  but  it  is  against  the  law  of  the  Universe  that 


of  a  Future  State.  39 

lie  should  die  again;  that  the  mystery  of  an  end  should  be 
repeated ;  that  an  event  which  is  single  in  his  existence  should 
recur.  After  that  one  death  he  lives  for  ever ;  and  his  life  is 
a  state  of  glory,  not  merely  a  continuation,  but  an  ascent  ot 
existence.  Nor  is  this  endless  life  of  glory  announced  as  a 
vision  or  an  ecstasy.  By  virtue  of  the  article  of  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body,  all  that  is  analogous  to  the  substance,  the 
visibility,  oMineation  of  form,  the  distinction  of  local  presence, 
the  sense  of  solidity,  which  attaches  to  this  earthly  life,  belongs 
also  to  the  life  everlasting.  This  was  a  doctrine  divided  the 
whole  width  of  the  poles  from  the  Pagan  doctrine  of  a  future 
state.  It  was  another  truth,  a  different  truth.  The  Pagans 
held  a  future  state,  held  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  we  are 
told,  as  if,  that  said,  the  subject  were  all  over.  But  the 
subject,  in  fact,  is  only  just  begun.  Is  it  enough  that  the 
soul  after  death  exists  ?  Is  that  all ;  as  if  so  long  as  it 
existed  it  did  not  signify  how  it  existed,  what  its  life  was  ? 
This  is  only  the  threshold  of  the  true  doctrine.  The  soul  may 
be  allowed  to  exist,  and  that  existence  may  be  represented,  as 
it  is  represented  in  Paganism,  as  shadowy,  or  as  impersonal,  or 
as  a  perpetual  restless  change  and  succession  of  lives,  going  on 
through  one  condition  of  being  after  another  by  alternating 
gateways  of  life  and  death  ;  the  vagrant  inhabitant  of  different 
bodies,  carried  backwards  and  forwards  by  the  interminable 
flux  and  reflux  of  the  great  tide  of  existence,  and  the  action 
and  reaction  of  contraries,  life  producing  death,  and  death  life, 
for  ever  and  ever.  It  is  the  questions  which  arise  after  the 
admission  of  future  existence  that  are  the  critical  questions. 
It  is  a  poor  thing  to  say  that  the  soul  exists  after  death,  unless 
you  add  the  mode  of  existence. 

The  mode  is  the  real  point.  But  all  these  questions  as  to  the 
mode  were  decided  wrongly  in  Paganism  ;  and  therefore  the 
doctrine  of  a  future  life,  in  our  sense  of  the  phrase,  had  to  be 
reconstructed  from  the  very  base  after  the  erection  of  the 
Pagan  fabric  ;  the  very  first  step  must  be  to  cast  off  the  whole 
of  Pagan  tradition,  in  which  there  was  nothing  that  could  be 
used,  all  which  was  so  much  obstructive  matter  in  the  way. 
It  was  a  preliminary  absolutely  essential  for  a  true  doctrine 


40  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

to  arise,  that  the  ground  should  first  be  cleared  and  a  clean 
sweep  made  of  this  mass  of  rubbish.  To  build  upon  these 
rotten  premisses  was  useless  ;  a  new  and  fresh  foundation  was 
wanted ;  and  this  was  just  what  the  Jewish  dispensation,  with 
its  tabula  rasa,  its  vacancy,  its  want  of  all  definite  conception 
of  futurity,  supplied. 

2.  This  personal  endless  life  in  another  world,  which  is  the 
announcement  of  the  Gospel,  is  a  most  incredible  idea  at  first 
to  human  nature.  To  the  simple  imagination  it  is  a  wilder, 
a  more  audacious  flight,  it  more  utterly  leaves  this  world 
and  all  its  forms,  its  ideas,  its  types,  and  impressions  behind 
it  than  any  of  the  three  Pagan  conceptions  of  immortality. 
All  those,  with  their  monstrous  and  unnatural  character,  com- 
bine an  evident  timidity  ;  they  cling  to  earth  and  shrink  from 
the  soaring  truth  of  a  spiritual  eternal  world ;  legend  dared 
not  conceive  of  the  future  life  as  more  than  a  shadow  cast 
off  from  the  true  life  which  it  placed  here  ;  Metempsychosis 
evaded  the  conception  of  another  and  spiritual  sphere  of  life 
by  providing  a  cycle  of  earthly  lives,  and  keeping  the 
soul  within  the  changing  coil  of  mortal  flesh ;  and  in 
philosophy  another  life  evaporated  altogether.  None  of  these 
conceptions  then  got  out  of  the  enclosure  of  this  world.  The 
Gospel  conception  did.  It  is  then  the  most  astonishing  con- 
ception of  all ;  the  most  overpowering  to  the  imagination. 
If  we  reflect  how  low  a  creature  man  naturally  is  in  his  own 
eyes,  how  contentedly  he  measures  himself  by  the  span  of  this 
life,  and  thinks  himself  as  a  matter  of  course  a  creature  of  to- 
day ;  nay,  who  embraces  his  fate  as  a  conclusion  of  common 
sense,  and  philosophises  upon  it ;  we  must  see  how  at  once 
he  must  regard  the  idea  that  he  is  to  live  for  ever.  That 
period  after  period  should  pass,  ages  and  countless  millions  of 
ages,  and  still  find  him  the  same  person  that  he  is  now,  upon 
the  verge  of  no  dissolution,  approaching  no  close,  looking  to 
as  much  existence  as  he  has  enjoyed,  and  indefinitely  as  much 
more — how  can  he  believe  it?  How  incredible  the  total 
unlikeness  to  all  present  experience,  the  release  from  all  sense 
of  transiency,  the  withdrawal  of  the  weight  and  presence  of 
mortality  upon  the  heart,  the  absence  of  all  anticipation  of  an 


of  a  Future  State.  41 

end  !  That  the  man  should  thus  survive  in  a  new  and  glori- 
ous world  the  total  and  dreadful  ruin  which  death  is,  the  blow 
which  shatters  the  mortal  structure,  and  blots  out  the  whole 
visible  man; — this  might  be  the  fitting  vision  of  a  fanatic 
seeing,  in  second  sight,  on  the  other  side  the  dark  boundary  of 
life,  his  own  form  illuminated  by  a  mystical  light;  but  to 
mere  sober  worldly  common  sense  such  an  eternity  would 
appear  an  impossibility,  a  fancy  and  a  dream,  a  thing  to  which 
no  belief  could  attach.  Eegarded  as  a  real  prospect  before  us, 
an  actual  life,  which  we  may  at  some  time,  under  the  Divine 
government  of  the  universe,  be  admitted  to,  it  even  now  tries 
the  faith  of  the  Christian.  As  soon  as  he  realises  it  he  is 
wonderstruck.  And  the  mass  can  hardly  be  said  to  believe  it. 
One  glimpse  caught  of  the  mere  chance  of  this  eternity  as  a 
fact  is  superior  to  the  most  positive  verbal  conviction  of  many 
— that  stupor  of  certainty  which  is  unbelief  in  disguise. 

The  conception  of  a  personal  endless  life  has  indeed  this 
double  character,  and  combines  these  two,  at  first  sight, 
opposites.  It  is  the  only  genuine,  the  only  natural  conception 
of  a  future,  and  at  the  same  time  it  is  the  most  stupendous, 
most  surprising,  and  overwhelming  one.  It  is  the  only  natural 
conception,  for  what  is  the  natural  idea  of  immortal  life,  what 
we  mean  by  it  in  our  own  minds,  but  oneself  living  and  con- 
tinuing to  live,  the  same  person  as  one  is  now,  endlessly  and 
for  ever.  If  existence  ceases  to  be  personal  it  ceases  to  be  our 
existence — what  we  mean  by  it.  But  this  conception  of 
immortality  is  also  the  most  stupendous  and  surprising.  Thus, 
not  to  embrace  this  conception  of  immortality  is  to  confess  to 
our  own  annihilation,  and  yet  to  embrace  it  is  to  believe  what 
.seems  incredible.  Hence  the  bold  front  of  modern  unbelief  on 
this  subject.  This  infidel  outbreak  which  is  the  visitation  of 
our  day,  is,  after  all,  only  human  nature,  escaped  from  disci- 
pline, speaking  plainly  out  on  this  matter.  The  doctrine  of 
eternal  life  is,  unless  he  is  trained  for  the  reception  of  it,  simply 
incredible  to  man.  He  cannot  think  himself  as  a  being  for 
whom  an  endless  personal  being  is  designed.  It  is  an  absurdity 
to  him,  this  personal  eternity ;  a  mockery  offered  to  a  poor 
transient  being,  who  lives  his  day  and  then  vanishes. 


42  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

III.  Jewish  preparatory  absence  of  conception. 

1.  To  build  up,  then,  the  Christian  doctrine  of  everlasting  life, 
so  incredible  to  human  nature,  a  new  foundation  was  necessary  ; 
and  that  foundation  was  a  moral  one.  And  it  was  this  moral 
foundation  which  was  laid  in  the  Jewish  law.  It  is  as  a  moral 
being  that  man  feels  his  value ;  that  he  feels  himself  not  a 
creature  made  for  this  life  only,  but  for  another ;  that  he  feels 
even  everlasting  life,  sublime  arid  transcendent  thought  as  it 
is,  not  unsuitable  or  unfit  for  him.  The  law  was  a  schoolmaster 
that  gave  man  a  knowledge  of  himself,  that  awakened  his  con- 
science, enlightened  his  perceptions,  and  revealed  him  to  him- 
self ;  acquainted  him  with  the  moral  purpose  of  his  creation, 
and  with  his  own  moral  nature  and  capabilities.  The  law 
was  thus  a  preparation,  an  education,  and  a  discipline  for  the 
revelation  of  this  truth,  and  introduced  man  to  the  designs  of 
God  for  him. 

It  is  true  that  heathen  law  and  philosophy  inculcated  moral 
duty  and  obligation,  and  so  far  as  heathen  law  and  philosophy 
did  this,  so  far  they  supplied  a  preparation  and  a  training  for 
the  Christian  doctrine  of  Immortality.  But  there  were  two 
great  defects  in  heathen  moral  teaching  which  prevented  solid 
progress  in  it,  and  issued  in  a  stunted  growth  ;  these  two  defects, 
which  had  a  deep  mutual  connection,  were  first,  the  absence  of 
a  junction  between  morality  and  religion ;  and  secondly,  the 
absence  of  the  doctrine  of  repentance,  or,  what  is  the  same 
thing,  the  sense  of  sin.  I  read  through  Cicero's  Offices,  and  see 
much  admirable  teaching  in  it,  but  it  is  defective  on  both  these 
points.  He  teaches  morality  without  any  relation  to  God,  and 
as  a  consequence  of  this,  without  the  sense  of  sin  and  the  duty 
of  repentance  in  the  case  of  moral  transgression.  But  morality 
cannot  be  a  deep  thing  in  man's  nature  apart  from  these  two. 
It  is  as  conforming  him  to  the  will  of  God,  and  raising  him  to 
communion  with  God,  and  in  connection  with  our  relations  to 
God,  that  the  sense  of  duty  becomes  a  penetrating  and  over- 
powering feeling.  It  only  rests  upon  the  surface  of  man's 
nature  and  does  not  take  hold  of  it  otherwise.  So  again  what 
deep  hold  can  moral  ideas  be  said  to  have  over  man,  if  when 
he  acts  immorally  and  wrongly  he  has  not  the  sense  of  guilt, 


of  a  Fiiture  State.  43 

and  does  not  see  that  repentance  is  necessary  for  him  ?  This 
defect  has  its  root  in  the  former  one :  as  an  offence  against 
God  immorality  becomes  sin,  and  needs  the  Divine  pardon,  but 
if  there  is  no  God  in  the  case,  then  there  is  no  sin,  and  no  need 
of  repentance. 

Now  morality  was  taught  in  the  Jewish  law  in  its  full  con- 
nection with  religion.  Man  was  taught  it  as  that  which  was 
to  make  him  acceptable  to  his  Maker,  and  as  a  divine  rule, 
the  violation  of  which  exposed  him  to  the  wrath  of  God,  and 
therefore  imposed  on  him  repentance.  The  moral  law  thus 
gained  a  marvellous  and  mysterious  depth  in  man's  eyes  which 
it  wanted  in  paganism,  even  when  paganism  taught  good 
morals.  Among  the  ancients,  although  we  have  scattered 
traces  in  their  traditions  of  a  divine  curse  which  pursued  the 
wicked,  and  although  Plato  partially  joined  morals  and  religion, 
still  on  the  whole  morality  tended  towards  being  a  political 
and  secular  thing.  In  Judaism  it  was  a  profound  essential. 
It  was  armed  with  all  the  powers  of  the  invisible  world,  it  was 
proclaimed  with  thunder  and  lightning  by  the  voice  of  God 
from  Mount  Sinai.  Man  became  by  the  infraction  of  it  a 
guilty  creature.  That  this  infraction  produced  so  terrible  a 
result  only  showed  the  sublimity  of  the  law  which  was  broken  ; 
and  only  disclosed  the  high  nature  of  man  as  being  made  to 
fulfil  that  law.  Now  this  was  a  foundation  for  the  doctrine  of 
eternal  life  because  it  was  a  revelation  of  man  to  himself,  that 
he  was  such  a  being  as  eternal  life  was  suitable  to.  It  was 
also  a  revelation  of  God  to  him  as  a  God  who  cared  for  man, 
was  intent  on  improving  and  purifying  him,  made  him  the  object 
of  His  counsels,  magnified  him,  and  regarded  him  with  unspeak- 
able love.  The  Bible  ever  inculcates  man's  value  in  God's 
sight.  As  the  object  of  God's  love,  and  admitted  to  communion 
with  God,  and  great  in  His  sight,  he  could  even  think  the 
prize  of  everlasting  life  accessible  to  him.  And  thus  the 
Jewish  law,  as  a  discipline  which  brought  man  to  know  God 
and  to  know  himself,  was  a  preparation  for  the  doctrine  of 
eternal  life. 

The  gospel  doctrine  of  justification  was,  as  an  exaltation 
of  man  to  the  level  of  the  life  everlasting,  to  the  condition  of 


44  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

perfect  fitness  for  it,  the  completion  of  the  Jewish  law  on  this 
point.  The  law  was  only  an  awakening  of  his  moral  nature, 
and  issued  in  exposing  its  weakness  and  inability  :  under  the 
gospel  the  defect  was  supplied  by  the  justification  of  man,  by 
which  he  was  clothed  with  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  and 
made  an  heir  of  immortality. 

2.  But  while  the  foundation  of  the  doctrine  of  eternal 
life  was  being  laid  in  the  Jewish  law,  the  truth  itself  did 
not  rise  to  the  surface.  What  was  the  actual  state  of  belief 
then  in  the  pious  Jew  on  this  subject  ?  Let  us  put  before 
ourselves  a  religious  Jew.  It  will  be  said,  "  Must  he  not  think 
of  what  is  to  become  of  him  when  he  leaves  this  world  ? 
It  is  the  question  of  highest  personal  interest  to  him.  He 
knows  that  life  is  short.  He  must  therefore  put  the  question 
to  himself,  and  if  he  does,  how  can  he  decide  it  but  in  one  way  ? 
Can  he,  with  his  faith  in  God,  really  think  that  the  soul  perishes 
with  the  body  ?  And  if  he  does  not  think  that  it  perishes,  he 
must  decide  that  it  lives  after  death."  These  are  questions 
which  arise  when  we  think  of  the  pious  individual  Jew.  The 
natural  instincts  of  a  pious  heart  appear  at  first  sight  to  be 
inconsistent  with  a  neutral  state  of  belief  on  this  subject.  It 
would  seem  that  natural  curiosity  itself  must  raise  the  question, 
and  that  if  the  question  is  raised  it  must  be  decided,  and  can 
only  be  decided  in  one  way.  On  the  other  hand,  if  this  is 
our  conclusion,  we  are  immediately  involved  in  the  greatest 
difficulties.  No  doctrine  of  a  future  state  is  revealed  in  the 
Jewish  law  ;  or  definitely  taught  in  any  of  the  religious  writings 
of  the  Jews,  till  a  late  date.  And  yet,  had  it  existed,  must 
it  not  have  come  to  the  surface  ?  Must  it  not,  indeed,  have 
become  the  belief  of  the  people  ? — for  the  religious  part  of  the 
community  formed  the  sentiment  and  set  the  standard ;  and 
the  rest  followed  it  if  even  only  verbally. 

These  questions  must  be  met  by  observing  as  accurately  as 
we  can  what  was  the  actual  state  of  mind  of  the  Jew.  On  the 
one  side,  then,  his  belief  evidently  stood  upon  the  very  edge  of 
the  doctrine  of  a  Future  State.  First  the  existence  of  a  God 
contained  in  itself  the  existence  of  an  invisible  world.  God  is 
not  part  of  this  world.  He  exists  out  of  this  world.  His  sole 


of  a  Fut^ire  State.  45 

existence  is  therefore  an  existence  outside  of  visible  nature. 
His  existence  is  therefore  in  itself  an  invisible  world.  The  Jew, 
in  the  very  act  of  believing  in  God,  believed  in  an  unseen 
immaterial  world,  in  which  was  Will,  Design,  Foresight,  Love, 
Anger,  Action  ;  because  all  these  belong  to  God.  He  believed 
in  an  inhabited  invisible  world  because  God  was  in  it;  an 
infinite  Being  to  whom  any  number  of  beings  was  as  nothing. 
Again,  there  being  intelligent  existence  out  of  this  world,  as  the 
object  of  God's  care  he  had  an  implicit  pledge  that  God  would 
continue  his  existence  out  of  this  world,  and  not  destroy  him. 
Would  love  blot  its  object  out  of  being  ?  Had  all  been  ex- 
tracted then  out  of  these  two  premisses  which  was  contained  in 
them,  the  Jew  would  forthwith  have  awakened  to  the  conclusion 
of  his  own  immortality ;  but  inasmuch  as  no  extracting  pro- 
cess was  applied  to  them,  these  premisses  just  stopped  short 
of  the  conclusion ;  and  the  doctrine  which  trembled  upon  the 
very  edge  of  disclosure  remained  latent  and  unexpressed.  Our 
Lord  extracted  and  brought  to  light  the  latent  force  of  these 
premisses  in  the  saying  that  "  God  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead, 
but  of  the  living,  for  all  live  unto  Him."1 

In  this  latent  doctrine,  then,  there  was  something  of  a  sense 
of  security,  a  general  consciousness  of  standing  well  upon 
the  question  of  existence,  standing,  as  it  were,  upon  terra 
firma.  In  fixing  her  eye  upon  an  Eternal  Being,  the  soul 
unconsciously  engrafted  herself  upon  Him,  and  in  that  junc- 
tion with  the  Invisible  One  was  carried  safe.  The  Jew  would 
obviously  have  lost  much  in  the  way  of  a  general  feeling  of 
security  for  himself,  had  he  been  without  this  hold  upon  an 
Eternal  Being.  Indeed,  in  our  own  case,  besides  the  distinct 
image  of  a  future  life,  there  enters  largely  into  our  religious 
support  the  trust  in  a  present  God,  and  the  pledge  contained 
in  His  character  that  He  will  do  the  best  for  us.  We  cannot 
easily  distinguish  how  much  we  owe  to  the  superstructure  of 
the  doctrine,  how  much  to  the  base. 

But  while  the  belief  of  the  Jews  trembled  upon  the  edge  of 
the  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  it  did  not  rise  to  the  explicit 
doctrine.  If  the  question  is  asked — How  could  he  go  on  so 

1  Matt,  xxxii.  32 ;  Luke  xx.  38. 


46  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

long,  not  drawing  the  conclusion  from  the  premisses  before 
him,  holding  the  doctrine  in  the  foundation  only?  the  reply 
must  be  a  reference  of  the  inquirer  to  the  known  habits  of  the 
human  mind.  We  know  that  the  human  mind  is  capable  of 
holding  truth  for  a  long  time  in  an  elementary  stage  in  science 
and  in  religion;  and  that  premisses  in  many  cases  remain 
unproductive  for  ages.  One  step  is  wanted  to  bring  the 
latent  truth  to  light,  but  that  step  does  not  occur  to  the 
human  mind.  It  is,  indeed,  an  enigma  which  follows  us 
everywhere  in  the  history  of  man,  whether  we  take  the  world's 
progress,  or  the  progress  of  individual  minds — why  people  do 
not  think  of  things  sooner  than  they  do.  As  soon  as  the  idea 
has  been  caught,  it  then  seems  unaccountable  how  it  has  been 
so  long  missed ;  and  after  the  discovery  we  wonder  at  the 
blindness  which  did  not  see  it  before,  and  passed  over  what  is 
now  so  plain.  And  yet,  for  all  this  surprise,  we  cannot  say 
that  there  may  not  be  new  truths  close  to  our  eyes  now  which 
we  do  not  catch  because  the  moment  of  opportune  quickness 
has  not  yet  come  to  the  sight ;  up  to  which  moment  they  are 
invisible.  But  though  the  reason  of  man  moves  slowly,  how, 
it  may  be  asked,  could  the  Jew  resist  the  strong  impulses  of 
curiosity  and  imagination  ?  A  future  life,  it  will  be  ob- 
served, is  no  remote  and  recondite  conclusion  of  reason,  which 
it  takes  time  and  attention  and  effort  to  extract  from  dark 
premisses ;  but  it  is  an  idea  to  which  the  human  mind  has 
leaped  forwardly  and  impetuously,  and  in  the  treatment  of 
which  it  has  rather  needed  a  check,  having  not  only  eagerly 
adopted  the  belief  in  a  future  state,  but  having  allowed  fancy 
to  invent  the  details  of  it,  and  illustrate  it  with  most  luxuriant 
imagery. 

I  reply  to  this  question,  that  curiosity  and  imagination 
could  never  have  discovered  the  true  doctrine  of  a  future 
state  had  the  Jews  given  way  ever  so  much  to  their  impulses. 
The  doctrine  of  a  personal  endless  life  was  too  great  a  truth 
to  be  prematurely  seized  by  such  a  grasp ;  only  a  moral  pre- 
paration could  lead  to  it,  and  the  ancient  Jew  did  not 
discover  it  because  his  moral  condition  was  not  ripe  for  it. 
But  if  it  is  asked  why  the  Jewish  mind  did  not  yield  to  the 


of  a  Future  State.  47 

natural  impulse  of   curiosity  and   imagination   to   penetrate 
further   into  this   mystery;    and   how   it   was   that  the  Jew 
maintained  such  a  suspense   on  this  subject,  stopping  con- 
tentedly upon  the  very  threshold  of  it, — we  answer  that,  if  the 
reason  of  the  Jew  did  not   hurry  him   in   this   matter,  his 
curiosity  and  imagination  fell  under  the  check  of  duty.     The 
Jewish  dispensation  was  a  dispensation  of  waiting  and  sus- 
pense,— that  was  its  fundamental  character;  it  professed  to 
be  incomplete  and  intermediate,  wanting  a  head  and  consum- 
mation in  the  Messiah  who  was  to  be.    The  whole  religion  was 
in  its  very  nature  expectant,  acknowledging  to  itself  its  own 
want  of  finality — that  it  was  but  an  instalment  of  the  whole 
Divine  scheme,  looking  forward  to  its  own  future  completion 
in  the  fulfilment  of  the  great  promise  upon  which  its  eye  was 
fixed.     It  was  the  line  of  humility  and  obedience  in  the  pious 
Jew,  and  in  keeping  with  the  curb  and  check  inherent  in  his 
dispensation, — in   the    absence    of   a   revelation  of  a  future 
state,  not  to  invent  one  for  himself.    It  was  his  trial  to  restrain 
curiosity  and  fancy,  and  submit  quietly  to  a  midway  position. 
It  was  a  trial  to  the  imagination  analogous  to  that  which  Butler 
lays  upon  the  intellect  in  a  particular  case.    The  impulse  of  the 
sceptical  mind  is  to  total  disbelief  as  the  decision  of,  and  relief 
from,  doubt.     The  impulse  of  the  imagination  is  to  the  very 
contrary,  not  to  illegitimate  demolition  but  to  illegitimate  con- 
struction ;  but  the  motive  is  the  same,  namely,  that  of  obtaining 
decision  and  relief.    The  false  repose  of  the  arbitrary  settlement 
of  a  question,  and  having  done  with  it  without  regard  to  the  evi- 
dence, is  the  same  in  either  case  ;  and  the  discipline  of  resisting 
either  impulse,  namely,  the  restraining  of  impatience,  is  the  same. 
I  may  observe,  too,  that  the  Jewish  dispensation,  besides 
being  a  Divine  dispensation,  and  as  being  a  Divine  dispensa- 
tion, was  also  a  school  of  thought ;  and  a  school  of  thought, 
when  it  becomes  established,  has  great  permanent  power  over 
men's  minds,  whether  as  an  impulse  or  a  check ;  whichever 
be  its  aim.    The  ancient  lawgivers  appear  to  have  established, 
by  the  side   of  the   direct   institutions   they  raised,  certain 
types  of  character  and  moulds  of  thought,  which  they  were 
able  to  impress  permanently  upon  the  states  they  founded  or 


48  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

remodelled.  Lycurgus  imprinted  his  own  type  upon  Sparta ; 
and  both  Mahomet  and  Confucius  founded  schools,  and  repres- 
sive and  coercive  schools  oft  thought, — a  fatalist  and  a  utili- 
tarian ;  both  of  which  succeeded  in  repressing  the  spirit  of 
inquiry  in  the  communities  which  accepted  them.  For  the 
Confucian  maxim  that  man  could  not  find  out  truth,  and  must 
therefore  attend  to  what  is  practical,  interdicted  the  first 
entrance  upon  the  field  of  intellectual  thought.  If  we  want 
an  instance  of  the  moderating  and  sobering  power  of  a  school 
of  religious  thought,  we  have  it  close  at  hand  in  that  school  of 
which  the  great  exponent  is  Butler.  ISTo  one  who  observes 
can  fail  to  see  how  deeply  this  school  has  struck  its  root  among 
us,  the  wide  area  of  its  influence,  and  the  great  strength  with 
which  it  moulds  a  large  mass  of  thought  in  the  English  Church, 
how  early  it  instils  into  successive  generations  of  minds  a 
certain  attitude  upon  certain  questions,  a  temper  of  content 
under  difficulties,  a  disposition  to  rest  satisfied  with  positions 
which  stop  short,  and  do  not  profess  to  be  solutions,  and  the 
acceptance  of  the  duty  of  bearing  with  speculative  suspense. 

Such  an  instance  may  assist  us  to  understand  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Jewish  dispensation  as  a  school  of  thought, 
how  it  could  sustain  the  midway  and  expectant  attitude  of  the 
pious  Jew,  his  contented  suspension  of  hope,  stopping  short 
as  he  did  of  the  definite  conclusion  of  a  future  life,  of  which 
he  held  the  premisses,  because  he  had  not  authority  to  go 
further.  It  is  the  natural  wish  of  man  to  carry  thought  to  a 
conclusion.  Stopping  short  is  irritating  to  him,  just  like 
breaking  off  from  something  one  has  to  do  when  it  is  half 
finished ;  one  likes  to  end  one's  work  when  one  is  about  it ; 
leaving  off  at  a  fragment  is  annoying.  But  the  Mosaic 
system  was  a  school  of  thought  which  early  used  its  disciples 
to  withstand  this  impulse,  and  habituated  them  to  abstain 
from  conjecture.  The  nature  of  man  is  pliable  ;  and  by  reason 
of  this  pliability,  which  within  certain  limits  is  advantageous 
for  him,  and  conduces  to  his  instruction  and  improvement,  he 
is  capable  of  receiving  strong  moulding  and  direction  from 
ruling  minds  and  from  founders  of  schools  of  thought.  He 
is  susceptible  of  being  permanently  impressed ;  of  being 


of  a  Future  State.  49 

habitually  prepossessed  for  or  against  any  forms  or  directions 
of  thought;  his  mind  is  capable  of  being  put  under  regula- 
tions and  prohibitions  which  dictate  to  him  his  attitude, 
whether  of  inquiry  or  suspense,  and  sustain  him,  if  need  be, 
in  particular  positions,  upon  the  edges  of  great  questions  where 
he  stops  short  with  a  trained  content,  in  which  he  does  not 
chafe  or  struggle  against  his  situation,  but  keeps  at  a  safe 
distance  from  temptations  of  curiosity  or  fancy.  The  Jewish 
lawgiver  told  the  Jew  that  he  was  not  to  think  of  certain 
subjects ;  that  he  was  not  to  look  into  certain  questions ;  that 
he  was  to  avert  his  mental  eye  and  not  try  to  see ; — the  very 
opposite  attitude  of  mind  to  that  which  the  Pagan  adopted,  to 
whom  the  impulse  of  curiosity  was  law,  who  rushed  with 
eager  and  impetuous  speculation  into  the  darkness  beyond  the 
grave,  and  allowed  his  volatile  fancy  to  revel  in  the  fictitious 
details  of  a  world  of  which  he  knew  nothing. 

Such  a  trial  of  curiosity  may  perhaps  be  illustrated  by  a 
trial  of  temper.  When  anger  exists  in  tendency,  solicited  by 
certain  objects  and  events,  but  is  not  raised  into  an  emotion, 
there  is  this  intermediate  condition  of  passion.  A  religious 
person,  for  example,  sees  what  Scripture  calls  the  triumph  of  the 
wicked  or  the  success  of  unprincipled  men  in  this  world  ;  but 
though  the  scandal  is  permanently  in  sight,  there  is  no  indig- 
nant motion  in  the  mind  of  the  spectator,  because  this  natural 
effect  of  the  sight  is  habitually  kept  at  bay;  the  feelings 
appropriate  to  the  facts  are  recognised  but  held  in  reserve. 
Thus  curiosity  upon  the  subject  of  existence  after  death  may, 
without  being  suppressed  altogether,  be  guarded  off  by  an 
habitual  attitude  of  the  mind. 

This  explanation  applies  to  the  backwardness  of  the  Jew  in 
drawing  a  definite  conclusion  from  the  scattered  disclosures  of 
the  invisible  world  under  the  old  dispensation.  Enoch  was 
taken  away  from  the  world  supernaturally ;  Samuel  was 
called  up  from  the  realms  of  the  dead  ;  Elijah  was  carried  upon 
a  chariot  to  heaven.  Angelic  visitations  were  the  visits  of 
the  inhabitants  of  another  world,  though  not  belonging  to  the 
race  of  man.  But  though  scattered  openings  were  given  into 
an  invisible  world,  it  was  a  further  step  to  bring  this  fragmen- 

D 


5o  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

tary  knowledge  to  a  point  and  bind  it  into  the  form  of  a 
doctrine.  It  was  a  further  step  to  see  in  these  special  cases  a 
law.  The  particular  instances  remained  such  in  the  mind  of 
the  Jew ;  they  were  not  made  into  a  whole,  and  interpreted 
upon  a  principle.  He  did  not  see,  in  the  persons  of  Enoch, 
Samuel,  and  Elijah,1  mankind.  Passing  gleams  of  a  future 
world  were  the  natural  precursors  of  the  mature  truth  ;  but  at 
the  time  they  were  fragments  of  which  the  full  meaning  was 
not  realised,  or  the  whole  to  which  they  belonged,  discerned. 
Truth  breaks  forth  in  sudden  inspirations  before  it  settles  into 
a  doctrine ;  and  thus  Job  bursts  forth  with  that  prophetic 
utterance — "  I  know  that  my  Eedeemer  liveth,  and  that  he 
shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth ;  and  though  after 
my  skin  worms  destroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see 
God."  Here  was  the  gleam  of  a  future  life  ;  but  it  would  be 
premature  to  argue  from  the  gleam  the  existence  of  the  full 
doctrine.  Warburton's  interpretation  of  this  passage  as  an 
expectation  of  temporal  deliverance  is  inconsistent  with  the 
general  argument  of  Job,  who  regards  this  world  as  a  scene  of 
injustice.  An  interpretation  of  it  as  the  assertion  of  a  doctrine 
of  a  future  life  would  be  also  inconsistent  with  the  argument, 
which  implies  that  Job  does  not  possess  the  key  to  the  enigma 
of  that  injustice.  But  the  interpretation  of  the  passage  as  an 
inspired  gleam  of  the  truth  does  not  contradict  the  argument, 
and  gives  a  more  natural  sense  to  the  words. 

In  describing  the  Jewish  belief  on  the  subject  of  a  Future 
Life  as  a  state  of  suspense,  we  have  at  the  same  time  to 
recognise  a  good  deal  of  language  on  the  subject  of  death  in 
the  Old  Testament,  which  appears  at  first  to  go  beyond  a  state 
of  suspense,  and  to  exhibit  death  as  the  termination  of  exist- 
ence. "  Shall  thy  wonders  be  known  in  the  dark  ? "  it  is  said 
in  the  88th  Psalm ;  "  and  thy  righteousness  in  the  land  of 
forgetfulness  ?  wilt  thou  show  wonders  to  the  dead  ?  Shall 
the  dead  arise  and  praise  thee?"  "The  grave  cannot  praise 
thee,"  says  Hezekiah,  "  death  cannot  celebrate  thee ;  they 
that  go  down  into  the  pit  cannot  hope  for  thy  truth."  But 

1  Warburton  admits   a  dawn  of  the  truth  in   the  ascent   of  Elijah,  and 
a  gradual  advance  of  the  Jewish  mind  in  that  direction  from  that  time. 


of  a  Futwt  State.  5 1 

though  this  description  of  the  state  of  death  is  in  startling  con- 
trast with  that  of  the  Gospel,  in  which  the  grave  figures  as  the 
gateway  of  heaven  and  the  entrance  into  life  and  glory,  we 
see,  when  we  examine  it  accurately,  that  it  stops  short  of  the 
fact  of  what  does  really  take  place  in  the  mystery  of  death. 
These  are  simple  descriptions  of  the  phenomenon  of  death, 
and  do  not  profess  to  enter  into  the  inner  reality.  To  the  eye 
death  is  the  phenomenon  which  they  describe ;  it  is  a  with- 
drawal from  the  light  of  day,  the  effacement  of  all  the  sensible 
tokens  of  existence.  The  dead  cannot  praise  God  because  they 
cannot  speak  ;  they  cannot  be  shown  His  wonders  because  they 
cannot  see  ;  they  are  in  the  land  of  forgetfulness  because  they 
give  no  outward  sign  of  recollection ;  they  are  shut  up  in  the 
pit  because  they  are  buried  in  the  earth  ;  they  have  no  hope, 
because  the  grave  is  the  apparent  end  of  everything.  This  is 
a  faithful  picture  of  death  as  a  visible  change  ;  but  this  language 
does  not  say  more  or  enter  into  the  question  of  what  really 
happens  to  the  soul  at  death;  it  is  not  a  description  of  the  real 
truth  but  of  the  outward  phenomenon.  The  language  in 
Ecclesiastes  appears  at  first  to  place  man  on  a  level  with  the 
beasts  at  death ;  but  the  whole  mode  of  speaking  evidently 
assumes  the  sphere  of  visible  nature  as  the  scene  in  which  the 
writer  places  himself,  and  to  which  he  intends  his  observation 
to  apply.  "  All  go  unto  one  place,  all  are  of  the  dust,  and  all 
turn  to  dust  again " — this  is  only  the  statement  of  a  visible 
fact.  "  Who  knoweth  the  spirit  of  man  that  goeth  upward,  and 
the  spirit  of  the  beast  that  goeth  downward  to  the  earth  ?" — 
that  is  to  say,  there  is  an  immense  difference  between  the 
spirit  of  a  man  and  the  spirit  of  a  beast,  the  one  is  much 
superior  to  the  other ;  the  human  soul  having  an  alliance  with 
God  and  heaven,  while  the  animal  nature  creeps  on  the 
ground ;  but  though  we  see  this  difference  we  cannot  follow  it 
beyond  the  boundary  of  this  world,  where  both  man  and 
beast  vanish  from  our  cognisance,  and  are  reduced  by  death  to 
an  outward  equality.  We  must  too,  take  the  melancholy 
description  of  death  in  the  Old  Testament  combined  with  more 
hopeful  language  which  seems  to  pass  beyond  the  line  of 
neutrality.  The  saying,  "The  spirit  shall  return  unto  God 


5  2  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

who  gave  it,"  confines  itself  indeed  to  the  resumption  of  the 
gift  of  life  by  the  giver,  stopping  short  of  the  question,  whether 
this  resumption  is  for  continuation  in  another  state ;  but  still, 
as  appertaining  specially  to  man,  this  mode  of  speaking 
declares  the  dignity  and  excellency,  and  favours  the  perma- 
nence of,  the  human  soul.  The  language  of  the  Old  Testament 
which  points  to  the  happy  end  of  the  righteous — "  Let  me  die 
the  death  of  the  righteous,"  "  the  end  of  that  man  is  peace," 
does  not  of  necessity  contemplate  consequences  beyond  this 
life  ;  because  the  man  who  has  the  support  of  his  conscience  at 
that  awful  moment,  even  without  the  distinct  prospect  of  what 
is  to  follow,  cannot  but  enjoy  a  sense  of  security  and  feel  that 
in  some  way  or  other  all  will  be  well  with  him ;  but  such 
language  still  borders  upon  the  idea  of  a  future  life. 

It  is  not,  I  say,  the  idea  of  annihilation  which  is  expressed 
in  this  language  of  the  Old  Testament,  but  the  visible  exterior 
of  death.  If  we  want  a  specimen  of  language  which  does 
express  the  idea  of  annhilation,  we  must  go  to  Lucretius. 
The  language  of  Lucretius  on  the  subject  of  death  indeed,  so 
far  as  the  mind  of  the  poet  is  vigorously  inspired,  as  we  see 
it  to  be,  with  the  clear  apprehension  of  the  end  of  this  life — 
of  a  moment  when  that  will  be  to  us  a  past  life,  not  belonging 
to  us — possesses  a  latent  religion,  and  may  be  called  spiritual 
language.  His  words  fix  with  an  iron  sharpness  and  strength 
upon  us  the  miserable  thought  that  there  is  an  end  of  this 
world  to  us — that  truth  which  Scripture  appeals  to  as  the 
foundation  of  a  religious  life.  The  common  mind  does  not 
really  apprehend  what  is  so  contradictory  to  experience  as  the 
total  cessation  of  its  connection  with  this  world;  it  cannot 
embrace  the  true  idea  of  an  end ;  but  dreams  of  another  life 
which  is  only  the  reflection  in  the  glass  of  the  life  it  knows. 
Lucretius  breaks  in  pieces  this  idol,  and  we  see,  as  we  have 
said,  a  spirituality  in  the  mind  of  a  poet  who  is  thus  fiercely 
at  war  with  a  dream  of  mortal  flesh,  and  cuts  with  the  unspar- 
ing edge  of  reason  through  the  mistake  and  the  delusion.  He 
takes  indeed  the  particular  case  in  which  this  mistake  is  a 
source  of  fear  to  man,  who  wrongly  identifies  himself  before- 
hand with  that  miserable  spectacle  of  death  which  will  only 


of  a  Future  State.  53 

have  begun  when  he  will  cease  to  be  affected  by  it ;  but  this 
sham  eternity  is  much  oftener  a  source  of  false  comfort  to  man. 
Yet  though  Lucretius,  so  far  as  he  fastens  upon  his  reader's 
mind  an  end  of  this  life,  uses  spiritual  language,  he  goes 
beyond  this  idea,  and  devotes  his  poetical  rage  to  representing 
the  clear  philosophical  conception  of  total  annihilation.  And 
we  therefore  see  from  him  what  language  that  is  which  does 
express  this  latter  idea,  and  we  see  how  different  it  is  from 
that  of  the  Old  Testament  description  of  the  phenomenon 
of  death. 

IV.  Comparison  of  Judaism  and  Paganism  with  respect  to 
the  belief  of  a  Future  State. 

With  the  Pagan  doctrine  and  the  Jewish  absence  of 
doctrine  before  us,  we  may  now  compare  the  two  together  as 
religious  conditions.  How  stands  the  case  with  respect  to 
the  comparison  of  Judaism  and  Paganism  on  this  point  ?  It 
must  be  observed  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  great  fallacy 
is  involved  in  the  usual  mode  in  which  this  comparison  is 
made.  The  case  is  stated  as  if  the  comparison  lay  between 
a  religion  in  which  the  true  doctrine  of  a  future  life  was  not 
taught,  and  a  religion  in  which  that  doctrine  was  taught ; 
but  this  is  not  the  state  of  the  case.  The  two  beliefs  between 
which  the  comparison  lies  are,  on  the  one  side,  a  gross  mis- 
conception of  the  future  life,  which  is  the  Pagan ;  and  an 
absence  of  definite  conception,  which  is  the  Jewish.  We 
have  not  here  to  answer  the  question  why  the  true  doctrine 
of  a  future  life  was  not  revealed  to  the  Jews  ;  that  is  a  ques- 
tion which  has  to  be  answered  in  its  proper  place,  and  it  is 
incidentally  answered  in  the  course  of  this  discussion ;  it  is 
in  fact  part  of  the  general  question,  Why  was  revelation  pro- 
gressive ?  Nor  again  have  we  to  answer  another  question  akin 
to  it.  It  may  be  asked  why  should  there  have  been  an 
interval  of  complete  vacancy  ?  Granting  that  the  Pagan 
doctrine  of  a  future  life  must  be  thrown  aside,  and  that  the 
time  was  not  yet  ripe  for  the  true  doctrine ; — why  should  not 
the  element  of  truth  which  was  in  the  Pagan  creed  have 
been  separated  from  its  corruption  and  been  inserted  in  the 
Jewish  Law  ?  There  was  still  room,  it  may  be  said,  for  some 


54  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

declaration  of  a  Future  State,  instead  of  the  omission  of  it. 
But  we  are  not  concerned  here  with  the  question  why  such 
and  such  a  piece  of  knowledge  was  withheld  in  the  old  dis- 
pensation. We  are  concerned  with  no  omission  or  defect  in 
Judaism  on  its  own  account  which  helongs  to  the  other 
general  ground  of  progress  of  revelation ;  we  are  only  con- 
cerned with  such  an  omission  as  compared  with  a  Pagan 
assertion ;  whether  the  silence  of  the  law  were  an  inferiority 
and  a  loss  as  compared  with  an  erroneous  and  debased  doctrine, 
in  the  religion  of  the  Heathen. 

This  question  may  be  met,  in  the  first  instance,  in  some  such 
way  as  this.  We  know  the  religious  belief  of  Abraham,  of 
Jacob,  of  Joseph,  of  Moses,  of  Samuel,  of  David,  of  Hezekiah, 
and  other  saints  of  the  Old  Testament.  Would  it  have  been 
any  improvement  to  their  belief  in  our  eyes,  if  instead  of  that 
state  of  mind  with  respect  to  futurity  in  which  we  perceive 
them  to  be,  they  declared  their  belief  in  the  doctrine  of 
Metempsychosis,  or  their  belief  in  the  legend  of  the  infernal 
regions ;  or  their  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  absorption  and 
an  impersonal  existence  of  the  soul  in  a  future  state  ?  Would 
it  add  to  the  dignity,  to  the  spirituality  of  their  religious 
condition  in  our  eyes,  that  they  should  have  the  conception, 
and  definite  conception,  of  a  future  life,  but  a  conception  of 
one  or  other  of  these  kinds?  It  is  evident  that  it  would 
not ;  on  the  contrary,  that  it  would  greatly  lower  our  estimate 
of  the  religious  condition  of  these  holy  men.  There  is  no 
scandal  in  a  simple  stopping  short  of  the  truth  in  those  who 
held  the  solid  groundwork  of  that  truth.  But  to  suppose,  for 
example,  David,  the  holy  Psalmist,  to  have  believed  in  the  cycle 
of  Metempsychosis,  to  have  imagined  that  the  human  soul  at 
death  passes  into  other  bodies  of  men  or  brutes,  would  be  a 
conception  so  degrading  to  the  spiritual  character  of  David, 
that  we  cannot  state  it  without  revolting  from  it. 

Now,  if  this  is  so,  the  comparison  between  Paganism  and 
Judaism  on  this  subject  is  decided,  and  decided  in  favour  of 
Judaism.  The  alternative  is  not  between  some  true  conception 
of  a  future  state  and  the  want  of  a  conception  of  it ;  but 
between  a  false  conception  and  the  want  of  one.  We  must 


of  a  Future  State.  55 

not,  in  this  comparison,  take  some  abstract  doctrine  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  to  compare  with  the  defect  of  one 
in  Judaism ;  we  are  comparing  two  actual  systems,  and  we 
must  compare  them  as  they  stand.  We  must  take  the  doctrine 
of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  as  it  was  actually  worked  up, 
in  the  actual  shapes  in  which  it  was  held  in  Paganism.  We 
may,  indeed,  and  sometimes  do,  substitute  for  the  actual  doctrine 
of  Paganism  a  philosophical  abstraction  of  our  own,  and  then 
sharply  objurgate  the  omission  of  this  in  Judaism ;  but  if  we 
do  so  we  commence  the  comparison  by  wholly  mistaking  one 
of  the  sides  of  it.  It  is  the  actual  doctrine  of  Paganism  and 
the  actual  doctrine  of  Judaism  which  must  be  brought  together 
in  this  judgment  and  compared.  The  actual  doctrine  of 
Paganism  existed  in  those  three  shapes  I  have  mentioned,  the 
life  of  shadows,  the  Metempsychosis,  and  the  absorption  into 
the  infinite.  Did  any  one  of  these  shapes  give  the  Pagan  the 
superiority  over  the  Jew  ?  Common  reason  answers,  No. 

Again,  we  have  an  additional  aid  and  support  to  the  Jew 
in  sustaining  his  position  of  suspense,  and  resisting  the  temp- 
tations of  curiosity  and  fancy,  in  the  opposition  in  which  he 
was  placed  to  Paganism.  He  could  not  have  indulged  in 
speculation  and  imagery  without  falling  into  the  corrupt  con- 
ception of  a  future  state  into  which  the  Pagans  had  fallen; 
but  the  Pagan  corruptions  of  the  doctrine  were  before  him,  to 
deter  him  from  such  an  attempt,  and  to  warn  him  of  his 
danger.  In  the  Pagan  doctrine  the  pious  Jew  saw  not  the 
elevation  but  the  degradation  of  man ;  and  as  he  abhorred 
the  idolatry  of  the  heathen  so  he  would  shrink  from  his  idea 
of  futurity.  The  Pagan  belief  then  might  be  thrust  before 
his  eyes,  but  it  would  be  before  him  not  to  captivate  but 
to  disgust  him.  It  is  at  first  sight  difficult  to  understand 
how  the  Israelites  could  have  had  throughout  their  whole 
abode  in  Egypt  that  very  marked  and  elaborate  doctrine  of  a 
future  life  before  them  which  stood  out  so  prominently  in  the 
religion  and  constitutions  of  that  country ;  and  yet  that  the 
fact  should  have  been  wholly  ignored,  and  that  in  a  law,  the 
institution  of  which  followed  almost  immediately  their  exit 
out  of  that  country,  so  long  their  abode,  not  a  single  mention 


56  Jewish  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

of  a  future  state  should  be  made  ;  but  this  is  the  answer.  To 
the  pious  Israelite  the  Egyptian  doctrine  on  this  point  and 
Egyptian  idolatry  and  animal  worship  stood  on  exactly  the 
same  footing.  Could  he  believe  in  the  transmigration  of  the 
human  soul  at  death  into  the  bodies  of  brutes  ?  His  purer 
creed  as  to  God  and  man  would  at  once  throw  aside  such  an 
idea  as  monstrous.  But  this  was  a  prominent  part  of  the 
Egyptian  doctrine  of  a  future  state,  and  could  not  be  separated 
from  it.  All  went  together.  It  no  more  occurred  to  the  pious 
Israelite  to  parley  with  the  Egyptian  doctrine  of  a  future  state, 
than  to  enter  into  terms  with  his  very  theology.  He  no  more 
respected  the  Egyptian  fancy  when  it  played  with  futurity, 
than  when  it  played  with  the  Divine  Nature.1 

But  again,  did  the  Pagans  really  believe  after  all  in  the 
future  state  they  talked  about?  or  what  was  the  sort  of 
belief  they  had  in  it  ?  A  great  drawback  must  be  made  on 
this  head,  in  comparing  the  Pagan  and  the  Jewish  states  of 
mind,  as  well  as  on  the  score  of  the  debased  conception  of  the 
state  itself.  The  crowd  caught  up  the  imagery  which  poetry 
supplied.  But  it  is  not  generally  considered,  as  much  as  it 
ought  to  be,  how  small  an  element  in  the  real  belief  of  a  future 
state  is  the  mere  image  of  it.  People  see  a  luxurious  growth  of 
imagery  on  this  subject  in  Paganism,  and  leap  to  the  conclusion 
of  a  belief;  but  let  us  examine  a  mere  image  in  the  mind — 
what  is  it  ?  What  does  it  amount  to  ?  If  a  man  looks  forward 
to  a  future  state  he  must  have  an  image  of  himself  as  existing 
or  not  existing.  He  takes  of  the  two  the  image  of  himself  as 
existing.  It  requires  no  high  state  of  mind  to  do  this ;  anybody 
can  do  it,  the  merest  savage  can  and  does  so  image  himself. 
But  there  is  no  belief  implied  in  what  is  a  mere  guess,  a  mere 
choice  of  that  alternative  of  the  two  which  is  most  liked; 
unless  there  are  also  some  reasons,  some  principles  in  the  con- 
science on  which  the  mind  goes.  Yet  this  image  taken  up 
is  expanded,  is  dressed  out,  is  decked  with  the  details  of  fancy 
and  of  story,  and  becomes  a  popular  doctrine  of  a  future  state. 
After  all,  however,  water  cannot  rise  above  its  level;  the 
belief  is  at  the  root  a  guess,  and  however  it  may  be  orna- 

i  See  page  301 . 


of  a  Future  State.  57 

mentally  developed  does  not  rise  to  more.  The  whole  Pagan 
imagery  was  in  reality  an  enormous  advance  upon  their  belief. 
The  superstructure  was  wholly  disproportionate  to  the  basis. 
It  was  a  luxurious  growth  of  shell  with  hardly  any  kernel  in- 
side. It  is  a  striking  contrast  when  we  turn  from  the  scenic 
details,  circumstantial  disclosures,  of  another  world  in  Paganism, 
the  personal  adventures  connected  with  it,  the  reports  brought 
back  by  visitors  to  the  region  of  mystery,  to  the  blank  of  the 
Jewish  law.  But  vivid  imagery,  though  it  shows  a  warm  and 
lively  fancy,  is  very  little  index  of  faith.  A  pictorial  creation, 
when  once  begun,  advances  so  fast  and  gets  so  far  ahead  of 
conviction,  that  it  ceases  to  be  any  guarantee  for  the  latter. 
Man  can  imagine  endlessly.  Vivacity  will  give  the  smallest 
minutiae  of  any  scene  ;  but  it  is  mere  picture-making.  Do  you 
believe  in  the  scene  which  your  own  fancy  has  conjured  up  ? 
I  may  imagine  a  certain  kind  of  life  going  on  in  the  planet 
Jupiter,  animal  forms,  modes  of  nutrition  totally  different 
from  those  of  this  earth.  Or  I  may  imagine  states  and  societies 
of  men  there,  with  a  most  elaborate  geography.  But  I  do  not 
believe  in  the  creation  of  my  own  fancy.  There  was  a  founda- 
tion of  belief  in  a  future  world  among  the  heathen,  but  to 
suppose  that  vivid  and  minute  painting  was  any  proof  of  the 
depth  and  solidity  of  the  belief  would  be  to  mistake  the 
habits  of  the  human  mind.  There  was  entertainment,  excite- 
ment, a  gratification  of  the  appetite  for  the  marvellous  in  such 
descriptions ;  but  to  true  belief  they  stood  in  the  relation  of 
a  monster  mask,  which  was  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  head 
within  it.  It  is  not,  then,  the  imagery  of  the  Pagan — which  is 
quite  another  thing — but  the  belief  of  the  Pagan  which  we  must 
consider  in  a  comparison  of  Pagan  and  Jew  upon  this  subject ; 
we  must  take  the  small  residuum  of  belief  left  after  the  deduc- 
tion of  pictorial  matter,  and  put  it  side  by  side  with  the  solid 
germ  of  the  true  doctrine  of  a  future  life  in  Judaism. 

How  stands  the  case  then  in  the  comparison  of  Paganism 
and  Judaism  upon  the  point  of  the  doctrine  of  a  Future  State  ? 
On  the  one  side,  it  is  true  that  we  have  the  express  adoption 
of  the  doctrine,  but  it  is  grossly  misconceived,  while,  moreover, 
the  general  belief  in  it  is  so  weak  and  unsettled  as  to  be 


58  Jezvisk  and  Heathen  Conceptions 

hardly  more  than  a  name.  On  the  other  side,  there  is  the  omis- 
sion of  it,  but  a  foundation  is  being  laid  for  the  true  doctrine. 
Which  of  these  two  conditions  or  situations  then  is  the  better  ? 
I  do  not  mean  when  the  true  doctrine  came  to  light  which 

O 

was  the  better  of  the  two — that  is  taken  for  granted.  But  in 
the  interim,  and  while  the  truth  was  in  its  latent  and 
germinal  stage,  which  was  best :  to  have  the  superstructure 
of  the  spurious  doctrine,  or  the  foundation  of  the  true  one  ? 
There  can  be  no  fair  doubt  on  this  point.  The  foundation  of 
the  true  doctrine  which  was  being  laid  in  the  communion  of 
man  with  God,  and  the  enlightenment  of  man's  conscience  by  the 
Law,  was  in  itself  and  at  the  time  a  most  signal  elevation  to 
man,  the  most  direct  improvement  of  him.  What  if  there  was 
no  clear  idea  of  a  future  state  ?  There  was  the  actual  present 
belief  in  God,  and  in  a  God  who  governed  by  rewards  and 
punishments.  To  the  authority  of  the  divine  law  the  direct 
belief  in  a  future  state  is  not  essential,  but,  first,  the  conscience 
is  bound  by  it  prior  to  further  sanctions ;  secondly,  although 
the  sanctions  of  rewards  and  punishment  are  practically 
necessary  to  the  support  of  human  obedience,  such  sanctions 
need  not  have  express  reference  to  a  future  life.  The  Divine 
Law  was  in  fact  able  to  move  man  in  the  old  dispensation,  and 
commanded  in  a  pre-eminent  degree,  as  compared  with  the  Pagan 
moral  law,  the  springs  of  action  in  his  heart.  The  Law  was 
a  present  effective  influence.  On  the  other  hand,  the  practical 
influence  of  a  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  as  they  held  it,  upon  the 
heathen  was  wholly  inconsiderable.  There  is  no  evidence  that 
the  sort  of  motive  was  in  any  operation  among  them,  or  was 
known  in  classical  times  as  a  practical  principle  of  life — the 
aim  at  the  reward  of  future  happiness.  There  is  no  proof  that 
the  living  for  another  world  was  a  recognised  practical  rule  of 
life.  There  is  no  sign  of  their  understanding  such  a  scope 
and  direction  of  life  as  this.  Still  less  is  there  any  sign  that 
such  an  aim  created  any  mass  or  body  of  holy  men,  or  church. 
Whereas,  under  Judaism,  we  see  a  perpetual,  standing  body  of 
pious  men,  whose  idea  of  life  was  obedience  to  the  Divine  Law  ; 
we  see  a  Church.  We  need  not  then  argue  the  case  from  pre- 
misses ;  the  proof  lies  in  the  facts.  The  Jewish  belief  bore 


of  a  Future  State.  59 

fruits.  The  mere  article  of  a  future  life  is  not  in  itself  the  test 
of  superiority  of  one  creed  over  another,  for  besides  that  it  may 
be  grossly  misconceived,  the  bare  image  of  a  futurity  is  nothing, 
and  merely  shows  a  different  condition  of  the  popular  fancy — 
unless  it  influences  life.  That  is  the  criterion.  But  the  Pagan 
belief  with  this  article  did  not  answer  this  test,  while  the 
Jewish  belief  without  it  did. 


6o 


IV.— ON  THE  SUPPOSED  OBSCURITY  OF  HOLY 
SCRIPTURES 

THERE  appears  to  have  been  a  tendency  lately  to  exaggerate 
the  obscurity  of  Scripture.  I  do  not  mean  of  particular  texts 
or  departments,  such  as  the  typical  language  of  Scripture,  or 
the  prophetical  section  of  Scripture,  but  of  Scripture  in  matters 
of  faith.  This  has  been  alleged  sometimes  in  the  interests  of 
church  authority,  to  create  a  more  stringent  view  of  its  neces- 
sity, sometimes  in  the  interests  of  doctrinal  scepticism.  Let 
us  take  first  the  extreme  school  of  tradition.  What  it  lays 
down  is,  that  the  language  of  Scripture  is  an  indefinite  ambigu- 
ous language,  which  is  consistent  with  various  interpretations ; 
that,  for  instance,  a  Socinian  could  fix  his  own  interpretation 
upon  it,  and  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  show  that  the  language 
itself  did  not  admit  of  that  interpretation,  and  that  the  reason 
why  the  Socinian  interpretation  is  not  the  right  one,  is  not  that 
Scripture  may  not  be  so  interpreted,  but  that  it  is  not  the  in- 
terpretation of  Tradition.  Tradition  determines  the  ambiguity 
and  neutrality  of  Scripture  to  one  point,  and  out  of  all  the 
interpretations  of  which  the  language  admits,  assigns  to  it  the 
true  one.  This  is  a  position  which  goes  beyond  the  Anglican 
doctrine  of  Tradition. 

When  these  persons  attribute  this  obscurity  to  Scripture,  the 
reason  seems  to  be  that  they  confound  omission  with  obscurity. 
Scripture,  for  instance,  on  the  subject  of  the  peculiar  nature 
and  virtue  of  the  sacrament  of  the  Eucharist ;  on  the  relation 
in  which  infants  stand  to  the  grace  of  the  sacrament  of 
Baptism ;  on  the  point  of  the  extent  of  the  administration  of 
the  Eite,  whether  it  should  be  administered  to  infants  or  not, 
there  is  an  absence  of  exact  statement ;  Scripture  lays  down  no 
doctrine  of  church -government,  and  no  formal  doctrine  of  any 
particular  order  of  men  as  the  channel  of  grace  to  the  Church. 

1  Delivered  in  the  Latin  Chapel. 


On  the  Supposed  Obscurity  of  Holy  Scripture.     6 1 

These  are  all  points,  however,  upon  which  great  dissension  has 
arisen,  and  great  separations  taken  place.  It  may  be  almost 
said  that  our  Church  separated  from  the  Church  of  Rome  at 
the  Reformation  upon  the  question  of  Trans  instantiation,  so 
much  had  the  movement  of  the  Lollards  which  roused  the 
national  mind  hinged  upon  that  doctrine,  and  so  prominent  was 
its  place  in  the  whole  crisis  of  the  Reformation.  Upon  the 
Baptismal  question  again,  and  the  question  of  church-govern- 
ment, not  only  great  disputes,  but  separations  also  have  arisen. 

When  persons  observe  then  the  different  disputes  and 
schisms  which  have  arisen  upon  these  points  they  say  generally 
and  indefinitely,  How  obscure  is  Scripture,  which  gives  room  for 
so  much  difference  !  But  omission  is  one  thing,  and  obscurity 
is  another.  Before  we  pronounce  the  Bible  to  be  an  obscure 
book,  we  must  be  sure  that  there  is  no  distinction  to  be  drawn 
between  its  omission,  its  silence,  or  its  reserve  on  some  points, 
and  its  substantial  clearness  and  openness  on  others ;  and  we 
must  be  sure  too  that  those  two  styles  of  treatment  in 
Scripture  do  not  respectively  attach  to  fundamental  matter  of 
belief  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  non-fundamental  on  the  other.  A 
book  must  not  be  called  obscure  because  it  leaves  out  some 
points  which  it  does  not  care  to  decide  ;  it  is  an  obscure  book 
only  if  it  is  ambiguous,  reserved,  and  wanting  in  expression 
upon  the  great  truths  which  it  requires  us  to  believe,  and 
leaves  them  matter  of  guess. 

Whether  these  omissions  in  Scripture  then  do  or  do  not 
prove  the  obscurity  of  the  Scripture,  is  not  a  question  of  the 
language  of  Scripture  so  much  as  of  the  quality  and  com- 
parative importance  of  the  truths  omitted.  The  general 
opinion  in  our  Church  is  that  the  truths  which  are  adequately 
expressed  in  Scripture  are  the  fundamental  truths  of  the 
Gospel ;  and  that  that  matter  of  belief  which  is  passed  by  in 
silence,  or  is  not  decisively  stated,  is  non-fundamental  matter 
of  belief.  Those  of  our  divines  who  maintained  a  certain 
definition  of  the  grace  of  the  Eucharist,  or  who  maintained  the 
necessity  of  Bishops  for  the  Church,  drew  a  distinction.  It 
was  essential  for  the  Christian  status  of  a  person  that  he  should 
be  in  a  church  thus  organised,  and  that  he  should  receive 


62  On  the  Supposed  Obscurity 

true  sacraments  ;  but  it  was  not  essential  that  he  should  believe 
in  the  necessity  of  this  church  organisation,  or  in  the  true 
nature  of  the  sacraments. 

Mr.  Keble  urges  the  distinction  in  his  postscript  to  his 
sermon  on  Tradition.1  Speaking  of  these  two  facts  or  truths, 
just  mentioned,  relating  to  the  Eucharist  and  Episcopacy,  he  says, 
"  The  doctrines  or  propositions  concerning  them  could  not  be 
necessary ;  it  would  be  wrong  to  insert  them  as  Articles  of 
the  Creed.  ...  St.  Ignatius  writes,  '  Let  that  Eucharist  be 
accounted  valid  which  is  under  the  Bishop,  or  some  one 
commissioned  by  him.'  Wherein  he  lays  down  the  rule 
which  we  know  was  universally  received  in  the  Primitive 
Church,  that  consecration  by  apostolical  authority  is  essential 
to  the  participation  of  the  Eucharist,  and  so  far  generally 
necessary  for  salvation."  '  But,'  adds  Mr.  Keble,  this  "  could  not 
be  turned  into  a  proposition  and  put  into  the  Creed,  because  that 
would  make,  not  only. the  rule  itself,  as  observed  by  the  Church, 
but,  the  knowledge  of  it  also  by  the  individual,  necessary  to 
salvation  :  and  it  may  be  thankfully  admitted  that  knowledge 
of  the  true  nature  of  the  sacraments  is  nowhere  required  in 
Holy  Scripture,  as  a  condition  of  our  receiving  the  grace  they 
impart."2  In  the  same  way  with  respect  to  psedobaptism,  which 
is  another  omitted  point  in  Scripture,  our  great  authority 
Wall  says,  "  If  it  be  not  a  fundamental  point  there  is  not .  .  .  any 
sufficient  reason  for  men  separating  or  renouncing  one  another  " 
upon  it.  And  "  I  think  that  such  a  question  about  the  age  or 
time  of  one's  receiving  baptism  does  not  look  a  fundamental, 
nor  is  so  reputed  in  the  general  sense  of  Christians."3 

Such  omissions  in  Scripture  then  do  not  go  any  way  to 
prove  that  Scripture  is  an  obscure  book ;  that  is,  that  it  does 
not  express  with  adequate  clearness  that  which  is  essential, 
that  which  it  is  necessary  for  its  purpose  that  it  should  express. 
Does  not  the  admission  which  meets  us  on  the  very  threshold 
of  the  great  Eoman  controversies  go  to  acquit  Scripture  on  this 

1  Primitive  Tradition  recognised  in  Holy  Scripture,   preached   September 
27,  1836.    The  postscript  was  to  the  third  edition,  1837. 

2  Postscript,  pp.  13,  14. 

3  W.  Wall,  History  of  Infant  Baptism,  vol.  ii.  p.  422  (Part  n.  ch.  xi.),  4th 
edition,  1819. 


of  Holy  Scripture.  63 

point  of  obscurity  ?  The  Eoman  Church  professes  to  draw  its 
peculiar  claims  and  dogmas  not  from  Scripture,  but  from  tradi- 
tion as  an  original  independent  source.  But  if  this  is  so, 
Scripture  cannot  be  answerable  for  that  material  which  is  com- 
mitted to  another  authority  altogether  to  communicate.  If  you 
have  to  be  clear  on  any  subject  you  must  in  the  first  instance 
have  to  speak  about  it. 

I  have  tried  to  explain  what  appears  to  me  to  be  a  source  of 
confusion  on  this  subject ;  and  one  from  which  a  prejudice  has 
arisen  with  regard  to  the  language  of  Scripture — a  pre-occupa- 
tion  of  persons'  minds  with  the  notion  that  Scripture  is,  in  the 
matter  of  doctrine  generally,  a  neutral  and  ambiguous  docu- 
ment which  tradition  alone  can  interpret.  I  cannot  but  think 
that  if  Scripture  had  been  allowed  to  speak  for  itself  without 
any  intercepting  medium  of  this  kind,  it  would  have  amply 
vindicated  its  own  language.  Take  it  up,  seriously  of  course, 
and  reverently,  but  still  regarding  it  as  a  book  which,  like  any 
other  book,  is  to  declare  its  own  meaning  by  its.  own  words,  and 
I  do  not  think  that  upon  the  great  truths  of  the  Christian 
Creed  there  can  be  any  fair  doubt  as  to  what  it  says. 

With  respect  to  the  doctrine,  for  instance,  of  our  Lord's 
Divinity,  it  is  difficult  to  understand  how  any  one  can  read 
St.  John's  Gospel,  and  not  see  that  that  truth  is  contained  in 
it ;  that  is,  read  in  the  way  in  which  we  should  read  any  other 
book.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atone- 
ment ;  we  do  not  want  any  more  than  that  Scripture  should  be 
read  according  to  those  grammatical  rules  by  which  other 
books  are  read.  Imagine  yourself  taking  the  sacred  books  of 
some  pagan  religion,  for  example  the  Hindoo,  and  finding  some 
sublime  personage  occurring  in  them,  to  whom  such  language 
expressive  of  his  being  an  Incarnation  of  the  Deity  was  applied, 
as  is  applied  to  our  Lord  in  numbers  of  passages  in  the  New 
Testament,  and  you  would  not  hesitate  to  say  that  such  a 
personage  was  in  this  mythological  book  put  forward  as  an 
Incarnation  of  the  Deity. 

Suppose  any  new  Hindoo  sacred  book  were  discovered  in 
one  of  the  Temples  which  contained  deifying  language  as  clear 
regarding  some  person  figuring  in  it,  as  that  of  Scripture  con- 


64  On  the  Supposed  Obscurity 

cerning  our  Lord  :  one  of  our  Oriental  scholars  who  was  read- 
ing a  paper  on  it  before  the  Asiatic  Society  would  not  scruple 
to  say  that  that  person  was  exhibited  in  that  Oriental  docu- 
ment as  a  Divine  Incarnation.  And  so  with  respect  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  if  in  any  Mexican  or  ancient  Persian 
manuscript  we  found  three  great  Divine  Agents  figuring,  to 
whom  personal  characteristics  and  acts  were  attributed  as 
openly  as  they  are  attributed  to  the  three  Sacred  Persons  in 
Scripture,  we  should  have  no  doubt  that  a  Trinity  was  ex- 
hibited in  that  manuscript. 

It  is  true  that  the  word  Trinity  does  not  occur  in  the  New 
Testament,  and  this  objection  has  been  sometimes  urged 
(by  advocates  of  the  extreme  school  of  tradition)  as  proving 
that  tradition  alone  communicates  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
But  such  an  objection,  in  order  to  be  of  any  value,  must  show 
what  Three  Persons  can  be  lut  a  Trinity ;  and  if  Scripture  also 
proclaims  from  first  to  last  the  Unity  of  God,  the  natural  and 
unavoidable  interpretation  of  Scripture  is  a  Trinity  in  Unity. 
It  must  be  remembered,  and  it  is  an  important  point  to  attend 
to,  that  fulness  and  openness  of  language,  such  as  leaves  no  fair 
doubt  as  to  meaning,  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  formal  pre- 
cision, and  regulated  accuracy  of  language.  It  is  in  the  former 
way  and  manner  that  we  say  Scripture  is  clear ;  that  it  has  a 
good  free  body  of  expression  which  declares  its  own  meaning. 

Although  the  word  Trinity  does  not  occur  in  the  Nicene 
Creed,  yet  it  would  be  an  extraordinary  assertion  to  make  that 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was  not  obviously  contained  in  the 
Nicene  Creed.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Bible  is 
addressed  to,  and  designed  for,  the  use  of  every  individual  Chris- 
tian, to  read  with  edification  to  himself,  and  with  instruction  to 
himself  regarding  the  great  truths  of  his  religion.  But  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  the  Bible  can  be  an  instructive  and 
enlightening  book  to  the  individual  on  the  subject  of  the  great 
truths  of  revelation,  if  it  does  not  declare  those  truths  by  its 
language,  taken  in  its  natural  and  grammatical  sense.  A  book 
which  admits  of  a  number  of  alternatives  of  senses,  and  does 
not  decide  itself  the  right  one  of  all  these,  may  afford  to  a 
reader  room  for  the  exercise  of  his  ingenuity  in  guessing  at  its 


of  Holy  Scripture.  65 

meaning,  but  can  hardly  be  said  to  instruct  and  edify  him. 
For  this  purpose  it  is  needful  that  there  should  be  a  sufficiently 
copious  and  obvious  body  of  expression. 

It  is  an  important  thing  to  consider  too,  that  as  a  matter  of 
fact  a  great  variety  of  churches  and  communions  do  extract 
the  same  doctrinal  meaning  from  Scripture,  so  far  as  relates 
to  fundamental  articles  of  belief.  I  do  not  see  any  reason  why 
they  should  do  so,  except  it  is  that  the  language  of  Scripture 
only  admits  properly  of  that  meaning,  and  that  that  is  the 
natural  meaning  of  the  language  itself.  I  know  that  Tradi- 
tion has  great  power  in  making  people  see  that  meaning  in 
a  book  which  Tradition  makes  them  expect  to  see  in  it ;  but 
there  is  a  limit  to  such  a  power;  nor  can  we  suppose  that 
people  could  go  on  for  ever  saying  that  such  and  such  language 
meant  so  and  so,  and  did  not  mean  anything  else,  if  the  lan- 
guage did  not,  according  to  ordinary  rules,  express  that  mean- 
ing. And  these  communions  have  some  of  them  broken  with 
Tradition  on  some  things  :  why  then  should  they  be  tied  to 
it  upon  others  ?  This  unanimity  and  consensus  then  among 
different  communions  is  certainly  a  tribute  to  the  obvious- 
ness of  that  meaning  of  Scripture  in  which  they  agree.  And 
when  we  find  on  the  other  hand  that  the  matter  of  belief  upon 
which  they  disagree  is  such  as,  being  non-essential,  Scripture 
is  under  no  obligation  to  express,  the  evidence  becomes  strong 
for  the  acquittal  of  Scripture  as  an  obscure  book ;  for  a 
book  is  not  an  obscure  book  because  it  omits  certain  sub- 
jects which  do  not  come  within  its  necessary  scope,  if  it  is 
adequately  clear  and  open  upon  those  subjects  which  do. 

There  is  one  great  exception  indeed  to  this  unanimity  in  the 
interpretation  of  Scripture  in  fundamental  matters  of  belief, 
namely,  the  Socinians ;  but  is  not  their  case  one  to  which  the 
saying,  exceptio  probat  regulam,  may  fairly  be  applied?  The 
uphill  battle  which  this  sect  has  to  fight  in  interpreting  Scrip- 
ture, and  the  strain  they  apply  to  the  words,  is  but  too  con- 
spicuous. 

Indeed,  when  we  examine  the  case,  as  regards  the  mutual 
relations  of  Tradition  and  Scripture,  it  becomes  difficult  to  see 
how  Scripture  could  fulfil  its  necessary  function  of  being  a  check 

E 


66  On  the  Supposed  Obscurity 

upon  Tradition,  unless  it  expressed  the  revelation  with  which 
it  was  charged  with  an  adequate  openness  and  clearness.  A 
book  which  admits  of  many  alternatives  of  meanings  may 
admit  indeed  of  the  right  meaning,  but  cannot  in  the  nature  of 
the  case  be  a  check  upon  the  wrong  ones.  Let  us  imagine 
Tradition  having  no  check  at  all  of  a  written  word  upon  it. 
How  would  the  case  stand  ?  Tradition  then  is  undoubtedly  a 
perfectly  natural  channel  of  the  communication  of  truth  ;  and 
we  all  depend  upon  it  in  a  hundred  different  ways  every  day. 
But  when  people  assert,  as  they  have  a  full  right  to  do,  the 
natural  use  of  Tradition,  they  sometimes  forget  its  qualifications 
and  its  limits.  It  is  evident  that  an  oral  tradition  for  twenty 
years,  and  an  oral  tradition  for  two  thousand  years,  are  very 
different  things.  We  cannot  argue  because  Tradition  would 
be  a  guide  for  a  certain  length  of  time  after  the  lifetime  of 
the  apostles,  that  it  therefore  would  have  been  enough  for  the 
Church  to  depend  upon  up  to  the  present  day.  Imagine,  then, 
as  I  have  said,  for  a  moment,  that  there  was  no  Bible,  no 
written  word  at  all,  and  that  the  Christian  revelation  had  been 
committed  to  oral  tradition,  for  men  to  hand  down,  generation 
after  generation,  by  speech.  It  would  be  evident  that  such 
oral  tradition  would  be  only  another  name  for  corruption ;  and 
that,  taking  human  nature  as  it  is,  such  corruption  of  revela- 
tion would  begin  early,  would  expand  largely,  and  would  never 
stop.  But  if  the  absence  of  a  written  word  altogether  would 
leave  Tradition  an  unchecked  and  uncontrolled  course,  a 
written  word  of  which  the  language  was  ambiguous  and  only 
admitted  of  a  true  meaning,  in  common  with  erroneous  ones, 
would  not  have  a  very  different  result.  Such  a  dubious  litera 
scripta  would  agree  with  wrong  tradition  as  well  as  right, 
and  the  traditional  principle  would  be  the  real  master  of  the 
position ;  and  would  ever,  at  every  step,  determine  on  its  own 
part  the  sense  of  the  written  word,  instead  of  the  written  word 
exercising  a  true  veto  or  check  upon  the  traditional  prin- 
ciple. It  would  have  an  unrestrained  course.  The  Anglican 
doctrine  of  Tradition,  which  imposes  scriptural  limits  upon  it, 
and  erects  Scripture  into  a  decisive  Court  of  Appeal,  thus 
requires  for  its  working,  in  limine,  an  adequately  clear  and 


of  Holy  Scripture.  67 

not  an  obscure  Scripture  :  the  doctrine  provides  by  its  very 
structure,  for  a  free  and  open  body  of  expression  for  the  sub- 
stance of  the  faith ;  because  without  this  there  would  be  no 
check  upon  Tradition. 

It  may  be  said  that  in  the  statement  just  given  of  the 
tendency  of  Tradition  to  corruption,  it  is  forgotten  that  the 
theological  writings  of  the  Church  in  each  successive  age  are 
a  check  upon  the  degeneracy  of  Tradition ;  inasmuch  as  they 
record  the  established  doctrines  of  the  Church  in  the  age  in 
which  they  are  written,  and  so  expose  the  late  origin,  and 
therefore  falsehood,  of  the  doctrines  which  rise  up  in  a 
succeeding  age.  It  might  thus  be  said  that  Tradition,  even 
without  a  written  Bible  to  check  it,  is  still  coerced  by  the 
natural  course  of  theological  literature  and  the  inevitable 
succession  of  writers  in  the  Church ;  that  it  is  hindered  from 
having  its  full  swing  ;  and  that  its  tendency  to  corruption  is 
stopped  from  coming  to  a  head.  This  argument  of  the  check  of 
theological  writings  upon  Tradition  is  used  in  T.  C.'s  reply  to 
Archbishop  Laud's  Eelation  of  his  Conference  with  Fisher: 
"Universal  traditions,"  he  says,  "are  recorded  in  authors  of  every 
succeeding  age,  and  it  seems  more  incident  to  have  the  Bible 
corrupted  than  them,  because  of  its  bulk  and  passing  through 
the  hands  of  particular  men,  whereas  universal  and  imme- 
morial traditions  are  openly  practised  and  taken  notice  of  by 
every  one  in  all  ages."1 

Stillingfleet,  in  his  Vindication  of  Laud,  answers  this 
argument  by  the  reply  that  the  traditions  might  corrupt  the 
writings,  rather  than  the  writings  test  and  authenticate  the 
traditions  :  "You  say,  they  are  recorded  in  authors  of  every 
succeeding  age ;  but  if  a  book  be  written  out  of  traditions, 
will  the  very  traditions  preserve  it  pure?"5  The  process  of 
corruption  of  doctrine  is  so  gradual  that,  supposing  no 
original  check  provided  for  it,  each  succeeding  age  of  writings 
would  record  an  addition  to  the  last  step  in  the  progress, 
rather  than  furnish  an  exposure  and  refutation  of  the  next.  In 

1  Laud's  Labyrinth,  by  T.  C.     P.  93.     Paris,  1658. 

-  Stillingfleet's   Vindication  of  Laud's  Conference,  vol.  i.  p.  389 ;  Oxford, 
1844. 


68  On  the  Supposed  Obscurity 

a  very  gradual  process,  each  step  authorises  the  next  as  leading 
to  it*  rather  than  disowns  it  as  stopping  short  of  it.  And  so 
without  a  written  Scripture  in  the  first  instance  to  seal  the 
genuineness  of  doctrine,  the  course  of  theological  literature  in 
the  Church  would  only  reflect  the  gradual  change  which  busy 
and  restless,  or  gross  human,  thought  had  wrought  in  Christian 
doctrine  instead  of  convicting  it;  would  express  corruption 
instead  of  checking  it. 

The  objection  will  perhaps  be  made  :  If  Scripture  is  thus 
clear  and  open,  if  it  sufficiently  expresses  its  own  meaning  by 
its  own  words,  what  use  is  there  in  Tradition  at  all  ?  I  reply 
that  Tradition  has  an  undoubted  use  and  function  still  reserved 
for  it.  "  The  sixth  Article,"  says  Mr.  Keble,  "  leaves  ample 
scope  for  the  province  which  Bishop  Taylor  assigned 
principally  to  Tradition  :  practical  rules  relating  to  the  Church 
of  Christ," — rules  respecting  which  he  adds,  "  the  doctrines  or 
propositions  concerning  them  would  not  be  necessary,"1  but 
which  might  still  as  rules  be  important.  But  even  in  funda- 
mental matter  of  belief,  and  on  the  supposition  that  Scripture 
expresses  and  states  this  fully,  a  very  important  use  is  still 
left  for  Tradition.  The  Bible  may  express  certain  truths  per- 
fectly adequately  as  far  as  its  own  language  is  concerned ;  we 
may  take  it  and  say  to  ourselves,  and  have  the  right  to  say  to 
ourselves,  This  means  so  and  so :  it  can  mean  nothing  else ; 
and  yet  there  is  that  element  of  self-distrust  in  the  human 
mind,  that  even  when  it  sees  a  thing  quite  plainly,  and  sees 
nothing  wanting  to  a  conclusion,  belief  is  still  sensibly  confirmed 
and  invigorated  by  another's  agreement.  When  we  are  quite 
sure  of  something  from  our  observation  or  reasoning,  we  still  rise 
to  another  level  of  assurance,  when  there  is  concurrence  with 
it  from  without.  Isolated  reason  is  practically  weak ;  it  wants 
courage ;  it  needs  reinforcing  from  another  principle.  Such  is 
the  case  with  respect  to  the  construction  of  Scripture.  The 
individual  may  feel  certain  that  his  construction  is  a  good, 
plain,  natural  construction  of  the  words  ;  and  yet  the  agree- 
ment of  his  fellow-Christians  in  that  construction,  the  con- 
currence of  the  Christians  of  all  ages — in  other  words,  Tradition 

1  Postscript  to  Sermon  on  Tradition,  p.  13.     1837. 


of  Holy  Scrip  hire.  69 

gives  a  new  character  to  this  assurance,  and  lifts  it  up  to  a 
kind  of  strength  which  it  wanted  before.  Faith  is  social ;  one 
man's  belief  is  increased  by  seeing  another's. 

I  turn  now  to  another  side  of  this  subject.  The  obscurity 
of  Scripture  is  sometimes  alleged  in  the  interest  of  a  scep- 
tical religious  philosophy;  but  we  may  remark  first  that, 
in  this  quarter,  it  is  not  so  much  the  obscurity  of  Scripture 
itself  that  is  asserted,  as  the  existence  of  some  intercepting 
medium  in  ourselves,  which  hides  the  true  idea  of  Scripture 
from  us.  This  intercepting  medium  is  regarded  as  being  caused 
by  the  gradual  growth  and  accumulation  of  a  succession  of 
traditional  interpretations  of  Scripture,  with  which  Christian 
society  is  penetrated ;  a  series  of  coatings  as  it  were  of  human 
thought,  which  must  be  peeled  off,  before  we  arrive  at  what  is 
the  real  core  : — this  core  is  the  true  idea  of  Scripture,  but 
before  we  reach  it  all  is  delusion  and  deception.  The  answer 
then  to  such  a  position  as  this  is,  that  we  cannot  be  called  upon 
to  entertain  an  hypothesis  which  is  wholly  -gratuitous  and 
without  evidence.  This  notion  that  we  are  prevented  from 
seeing  the  idea  of  the  apostolical  age  by  coatings  of  successive 
interpretations  which  have  got  incrusted  upon  it  in  our  minds, 
is  a  mere  assumption.  I  take  up  Scripture ;  I  see  that,  like 
any  other  book,  it  professes  to  express  something  that  it  wants 
to  tell  us ;  I  look  at  one  or  another  statement  or  sentence  in 
it ;  the  grammar  of  it  is  plain  :  according  to  ordinary  rules  of 
construction  it  means  so  and  so.  You  say  that  my  thinking 
so  is  owing  to  the  medium  through  which  I  look  :  you  refer 
me  to  a  succession  of  interpretative  coatings ;  all  I  can  say 
is,  I  know  nothing  about  them  ;  I  have  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  this  is  the  case  ;  and  until  I  have  some  reason  I  shall  go 
on  thinking  that  I  understand  the  passage  so,  because  the 
words  mean  it. 

Or  again,  the  philosophic  charge  of  obscurity  begins  at  the 
other  end,  not  with  a  veil  upon  the  minds  of  the  interpreters, 
but  with  a  veil  upon  the  idea  which  is  interpreted.  According 
to  this  latter  method,  the  apostles  themselves  did  not  know  their 
own  idea,  that  is,  did  not  know  w?hat  the  true  inner  idea  was, 
which  was  the  centre  and  essence  of  that  general  rough  con- 


70  On  the  Supposed  Obscurity 

ception  which  they  put  into  language,  and  which  they  borrowed 
from  the  ideas  of  the  age ;  but  which  was  the  popular,  contem- 
porary clothing  of  the  true  idea  rather  than  the  true  idea 
itself.  The  apostles  stand,  according  to  this  hypothesis,  some- 
what in  the  same  relation  to  the  idea  which  their  statements 
fundamentally  mean,  as  one  theory  of  prophecy  makes  the 
prophets  stand  to  the  subject  of  their  own  prophecies.  The 
prophets,  according  to  some,  made  prophecies  the  true  nature 
of  which  they  did  not  themselves  understand,  but  which  they 
expressed  as  Divine  instruments  and  mouthpieces.  So  the 
apostles  are  supposed  here  to  express,  in  the  conceptional 
language  of  their  own  day,  fundamental  truths  or  ideas,  which 
were  not  the  ones  actually  present  to  their  own  minds ;  but 
which  the  philosophical  evolution  of  Christianity  was  subse- 
quently to  bring  out. 

This  hypothesis  is  not  then  strictly  concerned  at  all  with 
the  obscurity  of  Scripture,  as  a  book  expressing  the  idea  which 
it  intends  to  express.  If  a  book  expresses  those  ideas  which 
are  in  the  minds  of  the  writers,  then  I  do  not  call  it  an  obscure 
book.  If  you  say  that  those  ideas  themselves  must  undergo  a 
process,  that  those  ideas  themselves  must  be  translated  into 
other  ideas,  that  is  certainly  an  obscure  and  difficult  proceeding, 
an  and  interminable  one.  But  we  are  not  concerned  with  it 
on  the  question  of  a  book's  obscurity.  We  have  not  here  to  do 
with  the  mysteriousness  of  the  ideas  or  their  peculiarity,  but 
only  with  the  fact,  that  in  Scripture  those  ideas  are  expressed, 
and  that  Scripture  does  not  fail  in  the  statement  of  them. 
And  though  it  may  fairly  be  required  that  the  ideas  which  a 
book  expresses,  if  it  is  to  be  acquitted  of  obscurity,  should  not 
be  mere  caprices  of  individual  mysticism, — mere  eccentric  and 
isolated  fancies, — so  much  requirement  as  this  is  undoubtedly 
fulfilled  in  Scripture.  The  ideas  of  Scripture  are  large  and 
generally  received  ideas,  they  are  ideas  which  are  embraced  by 
the  human  race.  The  ideas  of  the  Incarnation  and  the  Atone- 
ment have  a  place  in  human  nature  and  in  the  human  mind ; 
and  though  they  are  incapable  of  pure  intellectual  conception, 
that  is,  no  clear  image  or  outline  of  them  can  be  raised  in  the 
mind,  it  would  be  absurd  to  say  that  on  that  account  they 


of  Holy  Scripture.  71 

were  not  genuine  legitimate  ideas ;  because  otherwise  we 
should  have  to  say  that  the  soul  was  an  illegitimate  idea,  or 
that  duty  or  "  ought "  was ;  as  we  can  raise  no  clear  conception 
of  the  soul,  or  of  what  we  call  "  ought."  Unless  we  admit  ideas 
which  are  not  spurious,  yet  at  the  same  time  do  not  allow 
of  accurate  conception,  we  cannot  advance  a  step  either  in 
natural  religion  or  morals. 

In  conclusion,  I  will  draw  attention  to  a  distinction  between 
the  practical  use  of  Tradition,  for  assuring  our  own  individual 
faith,  and  the  conversion  of  it  into  a  controversial  fulcrum.  In 
controversy,  and  especially  in  an  age  of  free  thought  like  the 
present,  which  deals  with  fundamentals,  after  asking  you  what  is 
your  religion,  the  very  next  question  is,  Where  is  your  religion  ? 
Now,  with  the  greatest  appreciation  of  the  practical  use  of 
Tradition  for  confirming  our  faith,  I  must  yet  make  the  remark 
that  for  the  controversial  object  just  mentioned,  the  supposed 
office  of  Tradition  to  select,  out  of  the  various  meanings  of 
an  ambiguous  Scripture,  the  true  one,  is  the  most  cumbrous 
instrument  that  can  well  be  imagined.  It  virtually  sets  up 
Tradition  as  the  seat  of  Eevelation,  without  the  simplicity 
of  that  theory ;  but  accompanied  with  an  unwieldy  apparatus 
of  selection  of  documentary  senses.  The  true  Anglican 
doctrine  of  Tradition  relieves  us  of  this  difficulty.  Having 
set  aside  for  Tradition  a  compartment  of  secondary  truth 
not  decided  in  Scripture,  and  having  thus  cleared  the  ground, 
it  then  definitively  asserts  that  there  is  in  Scripture  a  clear,  full, 
and  satisfactory  statement  of  fundamentals ;  that  is,  declares 
there  is  a  manifest  statement — according  to  the  natural  meaning 
of  words — of  the  Christian  Eevelation  in  Scripture.  This  then 
is  a  compact  and  effective  answer  to  him  who  asks,  Where  is 
your  revelation  ? — It  is  in  Scripture.  Laud  saw  this,  and  he 
made  the  natural  sense  of  Scripture  in  our  system  correspond 
to  infallibility  in  the  Roman,  as  the  indicator  of  Revelation. 
It  would  be  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  oral  tradition  is 
the  indicator  of  revelation  in  the  Eoman  system  ;  it  has  for 
that  purpose  nothing  so  remote,  so  indefinite,  so  dim,  so  difficult 
to  trace  :  a  present  infallible  guide  decides  that  question.  That 
is  the  Church  of  Koine's  controversial  fulcrum.  Scripture, 


72  On  the  Supposed  Obscurity 

according  to  Laud,  is  this  fulcrum  in  our  system.  "  Sure  Christ 
our  Lord,"  says  his  opponent  Fisher,  "hath  provided  some  rule, 
some  judge,  to  procure  unity  and  certainty  of  belief."  "  I 
believe  so  too,"  says  Laud,  "  for  he  hath  left  an  infallible  rule, 
the  Scripture.  Scripture,  by  the  manifest  places  in  it  which  need 
no  dispute,  no  external  judge,  is  able  to  settle  unit1]/  and  certainty 
of  belief  in  necessaries  to  salvation.  It  hath  both  the  conditions 
which  Bellarmine  requires  for  a  rule,  namely,  that  it  be  'certain 
and  that  it  be  known,'  for  if  it  be  not  certain  it  is  no  rule,  and 
if  it  be  not  known  it  is  no  rule  to  us.  Now  the  Eomanists 
dare  not  deny  but  the  rule  of  Scripture  is  ' certain'  and  that 
it  is  sufficiently  '  known '  in  the  manifest  places  thereof,  and 
such  as  are  necessary  for  salvation,  none  of  the  ancients  did  ever 
deny ;  so  there  is  an  infallible  rule."  By  infallible  it  must  not 
be  supposed  that  Laud  means  anything  mathematical,  but  such 
practical  certainty  as  naturally  convinces  a  rational  person. 
He  asserts  that  such  practical  certainty  is  to  be  found  in  the 
statements  of  fundamental  truth  in  Scripture ;  and  he  claims 
for  this  practical  certainty  of  Scripture  a  rank  and  authority 
higher  than  that  of  all  councils.  For  "  full  church  authority,"  he 
says,  "  is  but  church  authority ;  and  church  authority,  even 
where  it  is  at  full  sea,  is  not  simply  divine  ;  though  no  erring 
disputer  may  be  endured  to  shake  the  foundation  which  the 
church  in  council  lays.  But  plain  Scripture  with  evident  sense, 
or  a  full  demonstrative  argument,  must  have  room  where  a 
wrangling  and  erring  disputer  may  not  be  allowed  it."1  Such 
is  Laud's  conclusion.  We  may  not  assign,  it  would  be  unworthy 
and  presumptuous  to  assign,  poor  polemical  ends  to  Scripture ; 
but  I  cannot  but  think  that  a  great  controversial  object  like 
this — to  indicate  concisely  the  place  where  our  revelation  is — 
comes  clearly  within  the  scope  or  design  of  Providence  in 
giving  the  written  Word.  The  divine  dispensation  has  here 
put  a  strong  compact  assertion  in  our  hands,  and  if  we  do  not 
take  advantage  of  it  when  we  have  it,  if  we  do  not  wield  it 
effectively,  it  is  our  own  fault  and  our  own  weakness.  It  is 
indeed  not  seldom  the  case  that  powerful  and  effective  asser- 
tions are  also  false  ones.  This  is  not  to  be  denied.  But  I 
1  Laud's  Conference  with  Fisher,  p.  163.  Oxford,  1839. 


of  Holy  Scripture.  73 

maintain  here  that  the  view  of  Scripture  which  represents  it 
as  obscure,  as  ambiguous  and  a  mere  recipient  of  alternatives  of 
meaning — that  this  is  the  untrue,  the  artificial  view  of  Scripture, 
and  that  the  real  fact  is  the  other  way.  Scripture  is  indeed 
but  too  plain,  its  truths  too  express,  if  we  are  to  judge  by  the 
extraordinary  difficulty  there  is  in  explaining  them  away. 
Some  minds,  however,  applying  a  really  reverential  spirit  too 
narrowly,  seem  to  have  been  afraid  that  it  would  be  disloyal 
to  tradition  to  admit  openness  and  clearness  in  Scripture.  And 
so  there  has  been  a  tendency,  if  I  may  say  so,  to  make  out 
Scripture  to  be  uncertain  even  against  facts,  in  order  to  call  in 
tradition  to  decide.  But  it  is  hard  upon  us  if  we  cannot  use  a 
most  valuable  assertion  when  facts  give  it  us,  and  if  we  must 
fall  back  instead  upon  a  controversial  position,  which  is 
unwieldy  and  also  untrue. 


74 


V.— ST.  PAUL'S  TEACHING  AN  INTEGRAL  PART 
OF  HOL  Y  SCRIPTURES 

THERE  is  a  good  deal  of  theological  opinion  now,  which, 
though  it  may  not  express  its  decision  openly,  goes  in  the 
direction  of  regarding  the  Christian  Eevelation  as  stopping  with 
the  Gospels,  and  the  doctrine  of  St.  Paul  as  being  only  one 
exposition  and  interpretation  of  the  real  Eevelation,  not  part  of 
Eevelation.  It  is  needless  to  remark  upon  this  tendency  (and 
almost  more  than  tendency)  of  thought  in  some  quarters,  that 
if  men  once  begin  to  cut  off  parts  of  that  whole  Scripture  which 
has  come  down  to  us  as  Divine  Eevelation  it  is  difficult  to  see 
where  such  a  process  can  stop.  There  is  something  so  arbitrary 
in  the  summary  disposal  of  large  parts  of  Scripture  without  any 
evidence  whatever  that  they  stand  upon  different  ground  from 
the  rest  of  the  Bible,  simply  by  act  of  the  will,  that  it  is  impos- 
sible but  that  the  whole  of  Scripture  must  feel  the  blow.  No 
real  faith  can  be  left  in  the  Bible  generally,  when  such  a  step 
has  been  taken.  It  becomes  then  a  mere  matter  of  a  man's 
own  choice  what  he  accepts  of  Scripture  and  what  he  does  not ; 
and  all  rests  upon  a  footing,  not  of  authority  or  command,  but 
only  of  a  man's  taste  and  predilection,  which  he  gives  some 
parts  of  Scripture  the  benefit  of,  and  does  not  give  others. 

What  the  Pelagian  movement  practically  amounted  to  was  a 
rejection  of  St.  Paul,  and  an  exclusion  of  him  from  the  canon  of 
Scripture.  That  whole  body  of  thought  and  feeling  which  in 
St.  Paul's  mind  stood  as  the  very  sense  and  signification  of  the 
Gospel  Eevelation  was  cast  aside  :  that  whole  deep  view  of  sin 
as  rooted  in  man's  nature  here,  and  of  the  moral  law  as 
unfathomable  and  beyond  fulfilment — leaving  in  the  minds  of 
the  best  a  sense  of  void  and  gap,  which  no  obedience  man  can 
give  here  can  fill  up — all  this  was  renounced  :  in  consequence 

1  Delivered  in  the  Latin  Chapel. 


St.  Paul's  Teaching  an  Integral  Part  of  Scripture.     75 

the  faith  in  the  sacrifice  and  obedience  of  Christ,  as  an  atone- 
ment for  the  sins,  not  of  the  wicked  only  but  of  the  good — 
as  a  filling  up  of  the  defects  of  the  saints,  as  a  great  imputation 
of  Another's  righteousness  to  all  who  can  lay  hold  of  it ; — this 
whole  import  and  effect  of  the  gospel  revelation  was  abandoned. 
In  a  word,  the  whole  inward  mystery  of  sin  and  of  the  redemp- 
tion was  rejected,  and  what  was  reposed  on  and  accepted  was 
that  part  of  the  gospel  which  was  identical  with  the  law  of 
nature, — the  power  of  the  will,  the  obligation  of  duty,  the  rule 
of  natural  piety,  and  the  acknowledgment  of  the  goodness  of 
God.  The  Pelagian  movement  was  thus  virtually  what  the 
present  movement,  to  which  I  refer,  is ; — a  rejection  of  St.  Paul 
from  the  Canon  of  Scripture. 

And  yet  when  we  go  into  the  grounds  there  are  for  thus 
making  revelation  stop  with  the  Gospels,  or  I  ought  rather  to 
say  with  the  simple  morality  of  the  Gospels,  for  if  we  go  to  the 
depth  of  their  teaching,  we  shall  find  that  the  Gospels  contain 
the  whole  foundation  of  St.  Paul's  doctrine  ;•  but  deferring 
this  point,  when  we  go  into  the  grounds  there  are  for  limiting 
revelation  to  the  Gospels,  we  shall  find  that  such  a  supposition 
is  not  only  without  any  grounds,  but  that  it  is  in  the  very  teeth 
of  the  plainest  intimations  and  announcements  of  the  Gospels 
themselves.  The  Gospels  are  explicit  upon  the  very  point  that 
they  are  not  final  statements  of  revealed  truth,  that  there  is 
more  to  come  after  them,  that  there  are  reasons  why  the  last 
part  of  the  disclosure  is  withheld,  and  that,  in  short,  that  dis- 
pensation which  is  to  crown  the  gospel  revelation,  the  dispen- 
sation, that  is,  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  has  not  yet  begun.  Thus  it  is 
clearly  and  expressly  stated  in  St.  Luke  that  when  He  should 
have  departed  from  them,  there  would  be  still  a  continuance 
of  the  revelation ;  and  that  an  Invisible  Spiritual  Power  would 
go  on  with  the  work  which  His  visible  teaching  had  begun. 
"  And,  behold,  I  send  the  promise  of  my  Father  upon  you,  but 
tarry  ye  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  until  ye  be  endued  with 
power  from  on  high  "  (Luke  xxiv.  49).  No  words  could  declare 
more  plainly  that  there  was  to  be  a  continuation  of  super- 
natural influence  and  inspiration  after  the  period  which  the 
Gospels  covered  was  closed.  And  in  St.  John's  Gospel  our 


76  St.  Pattl's  Teaching  an  Integral  Part 

Lord  makes  at  greater  length,  and  with  more  particulars,  the 
same  announcement  when  He  tells  His  disciples  that  when  He 
is  gone  He  will  send  a  successor  who  will  continue  the  revela- 
tion, and  carry  on  a  special  and  fixed  stage  of  it  which  could 
not  have  been  accomplished  in  His  own  lifetime. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  very  structure  of  the 
new  dispensation, — as  requiring  our  Lord's  atoning  death  before 
its  very  nature  could  be  disclosed,  and  its  very  purpose  known, 
— that  this  implies  a  new  and  second  stage  of  revelation 
after  the  first  stage.  The  dispensation  could  not  be  under- 
stood till  it  had  been  completed  and  consummated  in  act ;  but 
that  act  was  the  death  of  the  accomplisher  of  the  dispensa- 
tion. The  full  enlightenment,  therefore,  of  the  mind  of  the 
Church  upon  the  subject  of  the  dispensation,  must  take  place 
after  our  Lord  had  departed ;  yet  that  could  not  be  carried 
on  without  a  continuance  of  the  revelation,  and  without  the 
succession  of  a  new  Divine  Power  to  impart  it.  Here,  then, 
is  a  second  revelation  after  the  first,  a  revelation  to  illuminate 
man's  understanding  and  disclose  all  the  bearings  of  the  great 
fact  of  the  Atonement,  after  the  accomplishment  of  that  fact 
itself.  Christ  had  announced  the  fact  itself  indeed  when  He 
was  upon  earth.  "  From  that  time  forth,"  we  read  in  St. 
Matthew  (xvi.  21),  "Jesus  began  to  show  unto  His  disciples, 
how  that  He  must  go  unto  Jerusalem,  and  suffer  many  things, 
.  .  .  and  be  killed,  and  be  raised  again  the  third  day."  And  to 
the  two  disciples  after  His  resurrection,  He  expounded,  "  how 
Christ  ought  to  have  suffered  these  things  and  to  enter  into 
His  glory"  (Luke  xxiv.  26).  But  this  great  event  of  the  Death 
on  the  Cross  had  not  as  yet  been  brought  out  into  its  full 
meaning,  and  in  the  light  of  all  its  consequences  and  fruits. 
There  was  another  Eevelation  required  to  bring  out  all  that 
inner  and  hidden  truth ;  for  man  could  not  show  it  to  himself. 
And  this  fresh  revelation  was  plainly  announced  by  our  Lord. 
"  The  Holy  Ghost,  whom  the  Father  will  send  in  my  name, 
He  shall  teach  you  and  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance, 
whatsoever  I  have  said  unto  you,"  that  is,  shall  throw  a  new 
light  upon  whatever  I  have  told  you  in  reference  to  myself  and 
to  my  work ;  shall  both  bring  back  the  words,  and  also  teach 


of  Holy  Scripture.  77 

you  their  deep  and  mysterious  import.  "  When  He  " — the  Holy 
Spirit  of  Truth — "  is  come,  He  will  reprove  the  world  of  sin, 
and  of  righteousness,  and  of  judgment.  When  He,  the  Spirit 
of  Truth,  is  come,  He  will  guide  you  into  all  truth.  .  .  .  He 
shall  glorify  me,  for  He  shall  receive  of  mine,  and  shall  show 
it  unto  you  "  (John  xvi.). 

If,  then,  a  new  stage  of  the  gospel  Eevelation  was  to 
begin  upon  the  departure  of  our  Lord  from  the  world,  if  the 
Holy  Spirit  was,  after  the  consummating  act  of  the  Atone- 
ment had  taken  place,  to  illuminate  the  understanding  of  the 
Church  respecting  that  act,  to  seat  it  within  the  heart  of  the 
individual  Christian,  to  inspire  him  with  the  inward  sense  of 
what  had  been  done  for  him,  and  to  implant  in  the  individual 
soul  its  relations  to  a  Saviour, — why  should  not  St.  Paul  have 
been  the  great  minister  and  mouthpiece  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
chosen  for  this  work  ?  To  place  the  apostle  outside  of  the 
office  and  channel  of  revelation,  as  if  the  revelation  was  over 
when  he  began,  is  contrary,  of  course,  to  the  whole  of  eccle- 
siastical testimony,  and  is  to  subvert  at  one  blow  the  whole  of 
that  basis  of  external  evidence  upon  which  the  fabric  of  the 
Canon  of  Scripture  stands.  That,  of  course,  is  its  immediate 
effect.  But  it  must  also  be  observed,  as  a  most  important 
addition,  that  it  is  to  go  against  the  whole  force  of  internal 
evidence  as  well.  The  whole  structure  of  the  revelation  made 
in  the  Gospels  pointed  to  another  and  a  further  stage  of  that 
same  revelation,  when  it  had  left  the  confines  of  our  Lord's 
earthly  life  :  the  closing  act  of  the  great  Sacrifice  required  to 
be  brought  out  in  its  consequences,  and  the  obligations  it 
entailed  upon  the  heart  of  the  individual.  It  was  actually 
announced  that  a  further  revelation,  which  would  be  an 
extraordinary  illumination  of  the  individual  Christian,  a 
guiding  him  into  all  truth,  a  revealing  within  his  mind  of 
the  glory  of  our  Saviour  and  His  work,  would  be  made.  And 
this  was  what  St.  Paul  so  pre-eminently  did,  and  what  it  was 
his  peculiar  office  to  do.  To  stop  revelation  with  the  Gospels, 
then,  before  it  comes  to  the  Epistles,  is  simply  to  divide  two 
parts  of  a  great  whole ;  to  break  off  prematurely  at  one 
portion,  which  with  its  own  mouth  announces  itself  as  re- 


7  8  St.  Paul's  Teaching  an  Integral  Part 

quiring  continuation ;  to  intercept  the  very  professed  adapta- 
tion by  which  the  Gospels  link  on  to  the  Epistles ;  and  to 
impose  on  the  former  a  finality  which  they  disclaim,  at  the  cost 
of  withholding  from  the  latter  a  significance  which  they  demand. 

What  is  it  which  St.  Paul  does  in  his  Epistles  ?  If  one 
were  to  express  it  shortly,  does  he  not  establish  in  the  indi- 
vidual Christian  that  connection  with,  and  relation  to,  Christ 
as  his  Saviour,  which  the  great  act  of  Christ's  sacrifice  re- 
quires ?  All  those  expressions  of  St.  Paul's  which  denote  so 
completely  an  individual  interest  in  Christ's  death,  an  indi- 
vidual life  in  Christ,  and  a  union  of  the  individual  with  Him, 
as  the  source  of  his  peace  and  favour  with  God  here,  and  of 
salvation  in  the  world  to  come,  what  are  they  but  a  bringing 
of  the  great  act  of  Atonement,  once  performed  upon  the  Cross 
publicly,  into  the  inner  sphere  of  the  individual  soul  ? — illu- 
minating individual  life  with  those  regards  and  relations  which 
come  out  of  that  great  fact ;  giving  that  development  to  the 
truth  of  the  Atonement  which  was  necessary  to  its  being 
the  real  source  of  the  individual's  hopes  and  prospects.  In  a 
word,  was  not  that  which  was  needed  to  plant  the  Sacrifice 
of  Christ  in  the  Christian  soul,  as  the  root  of  his  individual 
spiritual  life,  the  doctrine  of  Justification  ?  The  doctrine  of 
Justification  completely  and  decisively  conducted  the  doctrine 
of  the  Atonement  into  the  sphere  of,  and  moulded  it  into  the 
stay  of,  the  individual  spiritual  life.  There  was  no  mistaking 
the  nature  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement,  after  it  left 
St.  Paul's  teaching,  so  as  to  suppose  that  it  was  only,  so  to 
speak,  a  public  doctrine,  and  not  a  private  and  personal  one. 
It  was  stamped  with  the  ineffaceable  seal  of  individuality,  in 
its  application.  The  blood  of  the  Atoning  Sacrifice  was  ap- 
plied to  the  individual  soul,  and  it  issued  in  those  emotions 
of  gratitude,  joy,  and  hope  which  a  rescued  being  must  couple 
with  that  fountain  of  cleansing  and  renovation. 

Let  us  imagine  for  an  instant,  if  it  be  allowable  for  the 
sake  of  illustration  to  do  so,  what  might  have  happened  in  the 
Church's  mind  with  regard  to  the  fact  of  the  Atonement,  had 
it  been  left  simply  in  the  form  in  which  it  leaves  the  gospel 
history,  of  a  public  and  general  mystery.  Let  us  imagine, 


of  Holy  Scripture.  79 

I  say,  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  what  would  have  happened 
in  the  treatment  of  the  general  mystery,  if  St.  Paul's  teaching, 
which  gave  it  so  pre-eminently  an  individual  application,  had 
been  omitted.  Would  not  a  tendency  have  been  observed  in 
the  mass  of  men,  instead  of  seating  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross 
within  the  spiritual  man,  and  giving  it  an  operation  in  the 
inmost  corners  of  the  soul,  to  have  converted  it  into  an 
external  commemorative  spectacle?  We  can  imagine  the 
mysterious  event  celebrated  in  striking  form,  made  into  a 
great  and  solemn  exhibition,  and  surrounded  with  grand  and 
imposing  imagery  to  feed  the  religious  imagination,  and  minister 
to  poetical  emotion.  We  might  conceive  it  to  have  been  in- 
vested with  the  ceremonial  of  one  of  the  ancient  mysteries ; 
while  all  this  time, — in  the  lack  of  Inspiration  fastening  on  the 
Church  the  idea  of  the  individual  soul  as  the  sphere  of  the 
operation  of  Christ's  Sacrifice, — no  one  of  all  the  crowds  that 
attended  this  striking  celebration  would  have  had  any  idea 
whatever  of  this  sublime  mystical  event  having  .taken  place  for 
him;  and  of  him  individually  being  the  subject  of  a  recon- 
ciliation by  it ;  and  of  receiving  pardon  and  peace  through  it. 
That  it  made  all  this  difference  to  himself  personally  would  be 
far  from  being  conveyed  to  him  by  the  general  pomp  of  a 
mystical  spectacle.  It  would  be  one  thing  to  gaze  at  a  grand 
commemorative  ceremonial  which  celebrates  some  general 
mystery  in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  another  to  receive 
that  mystery  into  yourself — to  regard  it  as  applying  to  you, 
and  to  look  upon  your  own  righteousness  in  God's  eyes  as 
depending  wholly  on  it.  It  is  in  its  application  to  the  indi- 
vidual that  the  yoke  of  this  mystery  upon  faith  begins  to  be 
felt.  It  is  not  felt  before.  The  mystery,  if  it  is  outside  of  you, 
lodged  in  an  exhibition,  in  a  ceremonial,  in  a  picture,  is  no 
troublesome  claimant  upon  faith ;  and  therefore  men  who  are 
without  belief  still  often  like  religious  spectacles ;  they  are  con- 
venient ;  they  ask  no  questions.  It  is  when  a  mystery  comes 
within  the  man  that  many  a  one  feels,  if  he  would  openly  say  so, 
that  he  hardly  knows  what  to  do  with  it,  and  wishes  it  outside 
him.  But  St.  Paul's  exposition  of  the  Great  Sacrifice  brings  it 
within  the  individual  soul,  with  its  whole  application  and 


8o  St.  Paul's  Teaching  an  Integral  Part 

consequences.  It  then  asks  for  belief,  and  asks  in  a  way 
which  cannot  be  put  off.  It  confronts  you ;  it  comes  face  to 
face  with  you ;  it  must  be  believed  or  disbelieved.  And  thus 
some  who  could  easily,  and  with  a  certain  moral  pleasure, 
have  thrown  themselves  upon  the  general  symbolic  spectacle 
I  have  been  supposing,  are  sometimes  troubled  and  dis- 
quieted by  a  statement  of  St.  Paul's,  They  feel  awkward, 
with  his  sentences  in  their  mouths.  The  challenge  to  their 
belief  is  insupportable.  They  shrink  from  uttering  them,  and 
the  words  die  away  on  their  lips. 

Hence  then,  and  by  this  sign,  we  see  the  work  which  St.  Paul 
was  inspired  to  do  in  his  Epistles,  for  the  establishing  and 
carrying  out  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement.  It  was  just 
that  application  of  the  doctrine  to  the  inward  man  which  was 
wanted,  if  the  revelation  of  the  Atonement  was  to  be  saved 
from  evaporating  into  a  dream,  and  growing  into  an  outside 
spectacular  mystery,  and  an  airy  vision  of  the  imagination  ;  if 
it  was  to  become  anything  more  than  this,  it  must  be  applied, 
as  St.  Paul  did  apply  it,  to  the  individual,  it  must  be  inter- 
woven with  all  his  spiritual  longings,  and  intertwined  with  the 
purposes  of  life.  The  individual  must  feel  that  the  truth 
belongs  to  him  with  all  its  comforts,  all  its  stimulus,  and  all  its 
obligations  on  affection  and  gratitude.  The  doctrine  of  Justi- 
fication, then,  is  the  revelation  of  the  operation  of  the  Atoning 
Sacrifice  of  Christ  in  the  individual.  He  is  dead  when  this 
Sacrifice  is  made  for  him ;  and  he  becomes  alive  by  means  of 
faith  in  it;  when  the  Sacrifice  becomes  to  him,  not  only 
forgiveness  for  the  past,  but  strength  for  the  future,  a 
mysterious  principle  of  life  in  him,  inspiring  him  with  new 
spiritual  energy.  Our  Lord's  death  figures  throughout 
St.  Paul's  Epistles  not  as  an  outside  piece  of  history  to  affect 
masses,  but  as  an  inner  moving  cause  in  each  man,  to  which 
he  feels  himself  owing  his  religious  zeal  and  affection. 

Look  at  St.  Paul's  language.  In  it  Christ  has  left  the 
historical  sphere  of  the  Gospels,  and  has  entered  into  the  human 
soul,  as  its  peace,  righteousness,  justification,  and  redemption. 
"  There  is  no  condemnation  to  them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus. 
.  .  .  For  the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus  hath  made 


of  Holy  Scripture.  81 

me  free  from  the  law  of  sin  and  death  "  (Eom.  viii.  1,  2).  ".  .  .  If 
Christ  be  in  you,  the  body  is  dead  because  of  sin,  but  the 
spirit  is  life  because  of  righteousness"  (ver.  10).  "Ye  are  in 
Christ  Jesus,  who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  wisdom,  and 
righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  redemption  "  (1  Cor.  i.  30). 
It  is  evident  that  all  this  is  the -Mystery  of  the  Atonement,  not 
kept  outside  as  history  necessarily  represents  it,  but  showing 
itself  forth  as  a  principle  within  the  man ;  and  it  is  evident 
too,  that  this  development  of  the  great  fact  of  the  Atonement 
in  this  inner  world  of  man's  soul  was  the  very  design  of 
Scripture,  and  was  made  to  follow  under  the  dispensation  of 
the  Spirit,  as  soon  as  the  Act  itself  of  the  Atonement  was 
visibly  completed  ;  that  as  soon  as  the  Gospels  have  done  their 
work,  the  Epistles  intentionally  come  in  with  theirs,  applying 
the  great  Act  of  the  Gospels  to  the  individual. 

This  work  of  the  Epistles  could  not  have  been  done  before, — 
that  is,  could  not  have  been  simultaneous  with  the  period  of  the 
Gospels  and  with  Christ's  ministry  on  earth,  in  the  very  nature 
of  the  case.  He  must  have  died,  He  must  have  risen  again  and 
ascended,  He  must  have  finished  His  work  and  entered  into 
His  glory,  before  He  could  reign  in  men's  hearts,  and  before  the 
work  He  had  done  could  become  a  living  power  within  human 
souls.  Were  the  disciples,  even  the  apostles  themselves,  equal 
to  entertaining  such  a  spiritual  view  of  our  Lord  while  upon 
earth  ?  In  those  intimate  communications  of  our  Lord  with 
His  apostles  which  mark  the  close  of  St.  John's  Gospel,  we  do 
indeed  see  the  beginning  of  a  disclosure  of  some  inward  con- 
nection between  Christ  and  His  disciples,  which  was  not 
accounted  for,  or  contained  in  His  visible  earthly  intercourse 
with  them.  The  relation  of  the  Vine  to  the  branches  is  more 
than  that  of  any  teacher,  however  influential,  to  his  followers. 
"  I  am  the  vine,  ye  are  the  branches :  he  that  abideth  in  me, 
and  I  in  him,  the  same  bringeth  forth  much  fruit.  Abide  in  me, 
and  I  in  you.  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself  except 
it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye  except  ye  abide  in  me  " 
(xv.  4,  5).  This  description  of  an  inward  and  mysterious  union 
with  Christ,  given  by  Himself  while  He  was  upon  earth,  is  an 
anticipation  of  the  fuller  spiritual  union  of  Christ  with  the 


82  St.  Paul's  Teaching  an  Integral  Part 

individual  Christian  after  he  had  left  the  world.  Our  Lord,  if 
we  may  say  so,  uses  the  language  of  His  own  apostle  St.  Paul, 
but  still  not  fully  ;  it  was  only  when  Christ's  earthly  life  was 
over,  that  the  full  relations  of  Christ  to  the  individual  soul 
could  be  disclosed ;  of  which  subsequent  disclosure  it  was  that 
He  said  : — "  I  have  yet  many  things  to  say  unto  you,  but  ye 
cannot  bear  them  now.  Howbeit  when  He,  the  Spirit  of  truth, 
is  come,  He  will  guide  you  into  all  truth.  .  .  .  He  shall  glorify 
me  ;  for  He  shall  receive  of  mine,  and  shall  show  it  unto  you  " 
(xvi.  12,  13).  Is  not  this  an  intimation  which  in  the  natural 
course  of  Gospel  development  points  to  St.  Paul  ?  It  looks  like 
a  prophecy  of  that  revelation  of  the  inward  connection  of 
Christ  with  every  true  disciple,  which  it  was  St.  Paul's  office 
to  make  known,  and  which  was  the  glorifying  of  Christ  in  the 
Church,  and  in  every  individual  member  of  it.  This  sub- 
sequent revelation,  our  Lord  specially  says,  was,  among  other 
things,  to  convince  the  world  of  His  righteousness,  "because  I 
go  to  my  Father,  and  ye  see  me  no  more."  And  what  is  more 
sounded  throughout  St.  Paul's  Epistles  than  Christ's  righteous- 
ness ?  and  that  not  in  the  way  in  which  the  righteousness  of  a 
living  person  is  exhibited,  which  operates  by  way  of  example  : 
but  celebrated  as  a  righteousness  of  a  higher  and  more  mysti- 
cal power,  as  the  righteousness  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  had 
left  this  lower  world,  and  had  gone  to  sit  at  the  Father's 
right  hand  : — as  a  righteousness  which  makes  righteous — that 
righteousness  of  one,  which  became  the  gift  of  righteousness  to 
others;  that  obedience  of  one  which  became  the  justification 
of  others. 

The  teaching  of  St.  Paul  then  not  only  rests  upon  exactly 
the  same  external  evidence  of  inspiration  upon  which  the  rest 
of  the  New  Testament  rests,  but  it  is  incorporated  in  the  New 
Testament  by  the  very  internal  structure  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  by  the  very  framework  of  the  Eevelation  ;  an  earlier 
part  of  which  pointed  to  a  later  and  supplementary  part.  It 
is  evident  from  the  very  language  of  the  Gospels  themselves, 
that  the  great  Act  in  which  the  Gospels  culminated,  leaves  the 
Gospels  with  the  rays  of  a  very  imperfect  illumination  thrown 
upon  them,  and  needing,  after  the  Divine  Actor  has  departed 


of  Holy  Scripture.  83 

from  earth,  a  continuation  of  the  course  of  revelation,  in  order 
really  to  show  the  Church  what  had  been  done  in  the  fact  of  our 
Lord's  death.  That  this  fact  was  to  be  an  Atonement  is  indi- 
cated by  the  Gospels  themselves,  which  say  that  He  was  to 
"  save  His  people  from  their  sins"  (Matt.  i.  21) ;  that  He  was  "  to 
give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many"  (xx.  28)  ;  " that  He  came  to 
save  that  which  was  lost"  (Luke  xix.  10).  His  own  appli- 
cation to  Himself  of  "all  which  was  written  in  the  law  of 
Moses,  and  in  the  Prophets"  concerning  Him,  stamped  His 
death  as  a  sacrifice ;  as  well  as  His  own  words,  that  "  it  be- 
hoved Christ  to  suffer,  and  to  rise  from  the  dead  the  third  day, 
and  that  repentance  and  remission  of  sins  should  be  preached 
in  His  name  among  all  nations ; "  and  the  exclamation  in  St. 
John's  Gospel — "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away 
the  sin  of  the  world."  But  though  Christ  was  proclaimed 
a  Saviour  and  a  Sacrifice  generally  in  the  Gospels,  what 
were  the  relations  to  the  individual  into  which  this  developed, 
—how  sinful  man  was  to  feel  individually  different  from  what 
he  had  been  ;  what  were  the  spiritual  consequences  and  fruits 
within  the  man — this  must  be  a  subsequent  revelation.  And 
of  this  subsequent  revelation  St.  Paul  was  the  great  instru- 
ment. 

Unless  indeed  this  supplement  was  given,  how  was  the 
reality  even  of  the  Gospel  truth  to  be  kept  up  ?  Unless  the 
Atonement  of  Christ  was  carried  into  the  sphere  of  the 
individual  soul,  and  that  was  made  to  see  the  interest  it  had 
in  it,  that  His  death  was  a  remedy  for  sin,  effacing  the  sting  of 
it, — unless  this  action  of  the  Sacrifice  upon  the  inward  man 
was  revealed,  and  he  was  made  to  know  it  and  feel  it — what 
was  the  Crucifixion  but  an  outward  simulacrum  and  spectacle 
the  meaning  of  which  would  vanish  as  the  event  receded  into 
history  ?  It  was  the  entrance  of  this  mystery  into  the  human 
heart,  and  the  proof  of  its  power  by  its  struggle  with  the  human 
will,  that  made  the  difference  between  the  Atoning  Sacrifice 
of  the  Gospel  and  the  paschal  solemnity  of  the  Jewish  Law  ; 
which  raised  it  above  a  solemn  exhibition,  a  representation,  a 
symbolic  rite ;  which  made  it  more  than  a  type  and  shadow. 
Whence  then  arises  that  reluctance  to  use  the  language  of  St. 


84  -SV.  Paul's  Teaching  an  Integral  Part 

Paul  on  the  subject  of  the  Atonement  as  it  affects  the  indi- 
vidual soul,  which  some  feel ;  at  the  same  time  that  they 
will  throw  themselves  with  fervour  into  the  solemnity  of  a 
Eucharistic  service,  which  celebrates  only  the  same  mystery  in 
ritual  which  St.  Paul's  language  does  in  the  interior  of  man's 
heart  ?  From  St.  Paul's  language,  if  they  would  confess  it, 
some  feel  themselves  divided  by  a  kind  of  chasm ;  they  would 
rather  not  use  it ;  if  they  do,  they  go  through  it  as  a  trial,  for 
which  they  have  to  nerve  their  utterance.  But  let  the  Atone- 
ment be  celebrated  under  the  form  of  a  rite,  and  they  are  at 
home  with  it.  This  reluctance  to  use  St.  Paul's  language 
may  indeed  be  partly  attributable  to  the  abuse  which  this 
language  has  suffered  in  the  mouths  of  extravagant  zealots  : 
but  is  this  all  the  reason  ?  I  am  afraid  not.  Language  of 
many  kinds  is  abused,  and  yet  we  are  not  shy  of  the  authentic 
and  true  forms  of  it.  It  is  some  inward  reluctance  which 
makes  them  shrink  from  this  language,  while  they  like  the  rite. 
And  yet  there  ought  to  be  no  division  between  rite  and  language 
which  have  one  common  object,  no  discord  in  our  hearts 
respecting  the  two.  If  there  is  such  a  chasm  there,  is  it  not 
because  the  language  commits  them  to  some  positive  truth, 
which  they  only  half  believe,  whereas  the  rite  is  only  con- 
templated as  vaguely  symbolic  ?  they  feel  a  resistance  therefore 
to  the  language  which  they  do  not  to  the  rite.  But  this  very 
difference  which  they  feel  between  the  two,  between  the 
Atonement  of  Christ  as  carried  into  the  interior  of  the 
individual  by  St.  Paul,  and  as  expressed  in  an  outward  service 
or  rite,  shows  that  St.  Paul's  language  was  wanted  in  order  to 
give  reality  to  the  truth.  For  the  true  difference  between  the 
language  and  the  rite  to  them  is  that  the  rite  is  capable  of  being 
taken  in  a  vaguer  and  less  solid  sense  than  the  language  ;  and 
that  the  use  of  it  therefore  does  not  test  belief,  so  much  as  the 
sincere  adoption  of  the  language.  Let  no  one  suppose  indeed 
that  in  itself  the  Eucharistic  service  does  not  demand  the  most 
profound  assent  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement :  it  is  evident 
that  it  is  based  upon  it,  and  that  every  prayer  in  it  implies  it : 
it  is  only  that  in  the  case  of  a  service  its  external  form  gives  the 
opportunity  of  avoiding  its  inner  assertion,  and  that  therefore 


of  Holy  Scripture.  85 

as  doctrine  it  sits  easier  upon  many  minds  than  religious  state- 
ment does. 

What  Pelagianism  practically  did  was  to  get  rid  of  this 
language.  Their  position  ignored  and  subverted  St.  Paul's 
teaching.  All  that  idea  of  sin  as  a  necessity  of  this  mortal 
state,  of  nature  groaning  under  the  yoke  of  it,  of  the  weakness 
of  the  will,  and  the  void  in  the  conscience, — all  that  inward 
groundwork  upon  which  the  relation  of  the  individual  to 
Christ  as  based  in  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  was  swept  away  by 
Pelagian  doctrine ;  and  with  the  premiss  went  the  conclu- 
sion. The  mystery  of  sin  was  abolished,  and  with  it  went  the 
mystery  of  a  Eedeemer. 

There  being  a  tendency,  then,  in  some  quarters  to  consider 
this  language  as  only  one  theological  exposition  of  the 
Atonement,  and  not  a  real  part  of  Scripture,  I  have  given 
reasons  why  such  a  view  appears  altogether  untenable,  and 
incapable  of  being  maintained  without  the  entire  disruption  of 
Scripture.  The  external  evidence  of  the  Sacred  Canon  only 
concurs  with  the  internal  structure  of  the  New  Testament  in 
giving  the  full  basis  of  inspiration  and  a  genuine  place  in  the 
Bible  to  St.  Paul's  teaching. 


86 


VI.— THE  DOGMATIC  OFFICE,  ITS  SCOPE  AND 
METHOD.1 

Dogmatism,  dogmatising,  dogmatical,  etc.,  are  terms  which 
have  gradually  contracted  in  common  speech  an  unfavourable 
meaning :  however,  what  is  denoted  by  these  terms  is  not  in 
itself  either  good  or  bad ;  not  in  itself  either  advantageous 
or  disadvantageous;  whether  it  is  to  be  praised  or  blamed 
depends  entirely  upon  the  object  and  end  it  has  in  view,  and 
the  judgment  and  discrimination  with  which  it  is  conducted. 
It  stands  on  a  par  in  this  respect  with  many  other  proceedings 
and  lines  of  action,  which  are  in  themselves  indifferent,  and 
which  are  only  proper  or  improper,  serviceable  or  injurious, 
according  to  the  temper  and  aim  with  which  they  are  adopted. 
Is  dogmatism  good  or  bad? — speaking  of  it  generally  and 
indefinitely — is  a  question  which  can  no  more  be  asked  than 
whether  arguing  is  good  or  bad  ;  or  whether  philosophy  is  good 
or  bad ;  or  whether  going  to  law  is  necessary  or  vexatious ; 
or  whether  going  to  war  is  politic  or  impolitic.  All  these 
processes  and  lines  of  action  are  neither  one  of  these  nor  the 
other  in  themselves ;  it  depends  upon  the  modes  of  them, 
whether  they  are  right  proceedings,  or  wrong  ones.  And  so 
with  respect  to  whether  dogmatism  is  wise  and  salutary,  or 
trivial  and  mischievous,  all  turns  upon  the  particular  occasion 
and  the  object  to  which  it  is  applied. 

The  dogmatic  office  has  been  sometimes  regarded  as  the 
creation  or  substantial  development  of  theological  truth  ;  and 
writers  have  used  language  as  if  Christianity  started  with  but 
a  seed  or  rudiment  of  that  truth,  which  it  subsequently,  by  the 
successive  statements  and  definitions  of  councils,  attained. 
The  primitive  Christian  enjoyed,  according  to  this  view,  a 

1  Delivered  in  the  Latin  Chapel. 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      87 

comparatively  meagre  share  of  the  whole  Christian  Eevelation  ; 
he  lived  at  its  commencement,  in  the  day  of  small  things,  in 
the  possession  only  of  an  elementary  knowledge ;  and  what 
had  been  revealed  to  him  was  but  the  root  of  that  tree  of 
doctrine  under  the  branches  of  which  the  wrorld  afterwards 
rested.  This  subsequent  growth  was  the  fruit  of  the  dogmatic 
office ;  the  truths  originally  revealed  by  the  new  dispensation 
waited  to  gain  substance,  expansion,  and  maturity  upon  this 
soil  and  by  this  culture.  According  to  this  interpretation, 
then,  of  the  dogmatic  function,  all  the  successive  definitions 
and  dogmatic  statements  of  Councils  in  connection  with  Gospel 
truth  were  actual  additions  to  and  enlargements  of  that  truth ; 
they  increased  the  substance  of  the  Christian  Eevelation ;  by 
the  gradual  accumulations  of  these  decisions  the  whole  structure 
of  Divine  knowledge  advanced  as  well  in  its  positive  size  as  in 
its  connections  and  proportions ;  and  those  who  lived  under 
this  completed  formation  had  the  advantage  of  a  really  higher 
Christian  light  than  those  who  preceded  them.  Fresh  and 
fresh  enlightening  truth  streamed  in  successive  ages  from  these 
synodical  sources,  the  heart  of  Christianity  glowed  with  exact 
definitions,  and  the  stock  of  Revelation  was  enlarged,  and  the 
current  of  its  life-blood  made  stronger,  every  time  theological 
accuracy  advanced  a  step,  and  a  formula  gained  in  precision. 

Such  a  view  however  of  the  purpose  and  effects  of  the  dog- 
matic office  as  this  must  appear,  upon  examination,  to  be  a 
very  mistaken  one ;  because,  in  truth,  the  stock  of  Eevelation 
cannot  be  added  to  by  any  process  short  of  a  new  Eevelation ; 
and  because  too,  when  we  examine,  we  find  that  this  is  not  in 
fact  what  the  dogmatic  office  does,  in  dealing  with  doctrine. 
The  dogmatic  office  guards  from  error,  but  does  not  create  or 
reveal  truth.  Let  us  take  the  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation, 
which  is  a  fact  of  Eevelation,  and  the  very  corner-stone  of  it. 
This  doctrine  came  several  successive  times  under  the  dogma- 
tic office  of  the  Church  during  the  first  centuries ;  but  what 
was  the  purpose  for  which  it  came  under  it  ?  and  what  was 
the  manner  in  which  it  was  actually  dealt  with  ?  It  was  dealt 
with  only  in  this  way,  namely,  that  certain  false  meanings 
which  were  from  time  to  time  given  to  the  doctrine  were  taken 


88       The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method. 

notice  of  and  condemned.     The  false  meanings  thus  excluded 
left  the  original  doctrine  as  it  was ;  the  revealed  truth  was  not 
allowed  to  be  interfered  with,  but  this  was  all  the  result  that 
took  place ;  the  revealed  truth  gained  no  addition  to  its  own 
substance,  but  only  a  protection  against  an  error  and  a  misin- 
terpretation.    Nothing  accrued  in  the  way  of  augmentation,  it 
was  only  enabled  to  remain  itself ;  no  fresh  truth  was  created, 
but  only  that  continued  which  before  stood.    For  instance,  the 
doctrine  of  the  Incarnation  implies  one  Person :  for  we  mean 
by  the  Incarnation  the   Union  of  God  and  man ;  but  if  they 
are  two  Persons  they  are  not  united ;  they  are  two  and  not 
one ;  the  union  therefore  implies  the  unity  of  person ;  and 
that  is  the  very  idea  of  the  Incarnation.    Upon  what  principle, 
then,  can  it  be  said  that  the  decision  of  One  Person  in  God 
Incarnate  was  new  truth,  added  to  the  truth  of  the  Incarnation, 
— an  augmentation  of  the  doctrine's  substance  ?    The  doctrine 
only  gained  the  advantage  of  standing  as  it  was  by  it.     It 
was  the  doctrine  always  of  one  person.     Our  Lord  is  in  the 
Bible  as  plainly  as  possible  One  Person;   no  one  thinks  or 
conceives  of  Him  otherwise.     But  there  came  up  the  sect  of 
the  Nestorians,  who  said  He  was  two  persons.     That  new  idea 
then  was  excluded  from  the  idea  of  the  Incarnation,  but  the 
only  effect  of  the  exclusion  was  the  old  idea  remaining,  not 
any  new  one  added.     The  denned  idea  was  exactly  the  same 
as  the  undefined,  the  falsehood  was  warded  off,  but  the  truth 
was  not  added  to.    Nor  was  the  dogma  of  two  Natures  any  more 
addition  of  substance  to  the  original  idea  of  the  Incarnation 
than  the  dogma  of  One  Person.    The  dogmatic  office  preserved, 
by  this  definition,  the  truth   of  the  two  Beings  that  were 
united, — that  God  and  Man  existed  in  the  Incarnation,  and 
not   any  third  nature  which  one  middle  Nature  would  be; 
but  this  was  all  that  was  done :  and  that  two  natures,  divine 
and  human,  were  joined  in  the  Incarnation,  was  exactly  the 
same  as  saying  that  God  and  man  were  joined  in  it.     There 
was  no  fresh  substance  added  to  the  truth  :  it  remained  exactly 
the  same  that  it  was,  only  protected  from  being  made  what  it 
was  not,  and  from  being  changed  into  another  doctrine. 

Nor  was  any  fresh  light  thrown  upon  the  doctrine  any  more 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      89 

than  any  fresh  substance  added  to  it.  No  new  knowledge  was 
communicated  in  these  definitions ;  no  man  could  say,  except 
indeed  he  had  a  very  ignorant  and  blind  mind,  that  he  knew 
one  iota  more  of  the  doctrine  by  these  definitions  than  he  did 
before ;  it  remained  exactly  the  same  incomprehensible  mys- 
tery that  it  was  before,  and  just  as  inexplicable  to  the  intellect. 
It  was  no  explanation  of  God  being  made  man  to  say  that  God 
and  man  were  One  Person,  or  that  God  and  man  were  two 
natures  :  the  new  statement  imparted  no  light  to  the  intellect ; 
all  that  the  new  statement  did  was  to  preserve  the  original  idea, 
mystery  as  it  was,  unaltered,  to  keep  truth  as  it  stood. 

It  was  a  complete  misrepresentation,  then,  of  the  use  and 
of  the  effect  of  the  dogmatic  office  to  exhibit  it  as  an  actual 
growth  of  truth,  and  increase  in  the  quantity  of  Eevelation. 
Indeed,  when  we  are  told  of  such  a  result  of  the  definitions 
of  Councils,  and  congratulated  on  the  treasure  of  Divine 
knowledge,  and  the  fresh  accession  of  Divine  light  which 
we  acquire  any  time  an  accurate  distinction  is  promulgated 
by  a  council,  and  a  new  piece  of  terminology  is  constructed, 
we  are  called  on  to  believe  a  delusion.  These  erections 
are  necessary  as  defences  of  revealed  truth,  but  to  speak 
of  them  as  themselves  radiating  with  Divine  knowledge 
and  celestial  light,  as  fresh  affluences  of  Divine  truth, 
raising  the  level  of  the  Christian  believer,  and  filling  the 
world  with  an  increasing  atmosphere  of  illumination — this 
is  to  make  the  fundamental  mistake  of  confounding  words 
with  things,  and  imagining  you  have  got  a  new  truth  every 
time  you  have  got  a  new  term.  These  defences  are  necessary 
to  guard  the  original  truth,  as  ramparts  are  wanted  for  a  city ; 
but  the  ramparts  are  not  the  city;  nor  are  these  termino- 
logical structures  truth's  substance.  The  Truth  is  the  original 
revelation.  There  is  a  mystery  upon  which  the  Gospel  is 
founded,  which  is  that  of  the  Incarnation — of  God  having 
become  Man;  which  mystery  has  been  supernaturally  dis- 
closed. This  then  is  the  truth.  But  this  truth  cannot  be 
augmented  by  human  definitions.  It  must  ever  remain  what 
it  was  when  it  was  communicated.  No  mysterious  termi- 
nology which  we  construct  can  rise  higher  than  the  original 


90       The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method. 

mystery,  as  water  cannot  rise  above  its  own  level.  "Whatever 
we  say,  we  are  confined  within  the  precincts  of  an  incompre- 
hensible idea  which  we  cannot  overstep.  We  may  erect  ever 
so  great  a  quantity  of  verbal  machinery,  but  the  truth  is  still 
what  it  was  at  first ;  the  truth  of  God  becoming  man  ;  no  more 
and  no  less.  This  is  the  first  and  this  is  the  last  illumination 
of  man ;  the  primitive  Christian  used  it  as  his  inspiration,  and 
the  latest  generation  of  Christians  must  use  it  as  theirs.  All 
Christians  must  use  the  one  same  mystical  and  incomprehen- 
sible but  inspiring  truth,  as  it  came  from  the  fountain-head ; 
for  the  dogmatic  office  only  preserves  it,  and  secures  it  remain- 
ing the  same  truth. 

It  is  true,  dogmatism  is  incidentally  a  polemical  process, 
because  it  is  only  upon  a  theological  difference  arising 
when  there  is  a  wish  in  some  quarter  to  tamper  with  the 
original  revealed  truth,  that  the  necessity  to  protect  it  arises. 
Nevertheless  the  aim  of  the  dogmatical  process  is  simply  to 
vindicate  the  idea,  to  clear  it  from  disturbance,  and  to  keep  it 
as  it  was  originally  communicated  and  revealed. 

And  these  observations  furnish  an  answer  to  the  question 
whether  Theology  is  a  science.  If  science  is  understood  in  the 
sense  in  which  it  is  taken  when  we  speak  of  science  popularly, 
using  the  term  alone,  and  without  an  annex,  such  a  claim 
is  of  course  utterly  untenable.  When  we  speak  of  Science  thus 
absolutely,  we  mean  physical  science ;  and  to  claim  scientific 
knowledge  as  the  property  of  Theology,  in  the  sense  in  which 
scientific  is  understood  in  Physics,  would  be  an  absurdity.  In 
Physics  Science  is  the  observation  of  facts,  and  the  observation 
of  facts  in  certain  relations  and  in  a  certain  connection ;  so 
that  some  facts  are  made  to  appear  the  causes  of  other  facts. 
The  chain  of  knowledge  is  thus  ever  lengthening  in  physics  as 
fresh  facts  are  discovered,  which  stand  in  an  antecedent  or 
casual  relation  to  facts  previously  known,  and  it  is  the  triumph 
of  science  that  systematised  fact  is  ever  gaining  ground  upon 
disorderly  and  undisciplined  fact,  so  that  knowledge  is  ever 
establishing  fresh  inroads  upon  the  territory  of  ignorance. 
The  network  of  causes  extends,  and  includes  more  and  more 
of  the  empire  of  nature  within  its  grasp,  as  new  facts  are  day 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      9 1 

after  day  observed,  and  observed  in  certain  relations.  Now  all 
this  is  as  inapplicable,  as  can  be  conceived,  to  a  Eevelation  which 
communicates  in  the  first  place  not  facts  of  observation,  but 
mysterious  truths,  and  communicates  these  truths  once  for  all, 
to  be  transmitted  as  they  were  given,  and  handed  down  to  all 
subsequent  generations,  as  they  issued  from  the  fountain-head. 
There  is  no  discovery  of  new  truths  in  Theology :  the  same 
creed  which  served  for  the  apostolic  age  serves  for  every 
age  after.  Why  should  it  not?  However  this  world  may 
develop,  man's  relations  to  the  other  world  must  always  con- 
tinue the  same.  The  wants  of  the  human  soul  must  be 
ever  the  same.  The  capacity  of  man  as  a  recipient  of  revelation 
cannot  be  altered  or  enlarged  by  progress  in  physical  know- 
ledge. If,  then,  God  vouchsafed  in  a  particular  age  to  give 
man  a  revelation,  there  can  be  no  reason  why  that  revelation 
should  not  serve  him  in  every  age  after.  The  analogy  of 
progress  in  physical  knowledge  which  depends  upon  the  use 
of  man's  ordinary  faculties,  does  not  in  the  least  apply  when 
we  come  to  a  revelation  from  above,  which  our  ordinary  facul- 
ties cannot  add  to.  We  use  then  that  inspiring  opening 
into  another  world  which  is  contained  in  the  Gospel  creed 
exactly  in  the  same  way  in  which  the  Gospel  age  used  it :  the 
intervening  expansion  of  man's  ordinary  knowledge  makes  no 
difference.  That  creed  continues  to  be  the  same  revelation 
that  it  always  was  to  everybody  to  whom  it  comes ;  it  has 
exactly  the  same  enlightening,  the  same  elevating,  the  same 
stimulating  or  nerving  power.  It  is  the  same  vision  that  it 
always  was,  as  fresh  as  ever  to  those  who  take  it  in. 

Theology,  then,  may  be  called  a  science  in  the  sense  that  its 
truths,  whether  those  of  revelation  or  those  of  nature,  can  be 
taught  methodically,  and  with  proper  relation  to  each  other. 
There  is  an  order  and  system  in  Divine  things  which  can 
be  brought  out  and  placed  in  the  proper  light,  even  with 
our  limited  powers.  All  truths,  ideas,  or  facts  which  stand 
in  mutual  relation  are  capable  of  being  treated  with  reference 
to  this,  and  in  this  sense  treated  or  laid  out  scientifically. 
Thus  we  speak  of  the  science  of  morals,  and  of  the  science  of 
the  law,  and  in  this  sense  of  order  and  arrangement  Theology 


92       The  Dogmatic  Office ',  its  Scope  and  Method. 

may  be  placed  on  the  basis  of  a  science,  but  Theology  is  not 
a  science  in  the  sense  that  its  truths  admit  of  scientific  proof 
or  scientific  increase.  The  hypotheses  of  Science  admit  of 
proof  by  experiment,  or  the  observation  of  facts ;  but  the 
truths  of  Theology,  being  truths  of  the  invisible  sphere,  do 
not  admit  of  present  scientific  proof  and  verification,  but  await 
a  future  one,  when  sight  will  supersede  faith,  and  what  are  now 
mysteries  will  be  facts. 

The  proper  scope  of  dogmatism  then  being  simply  to  defend 
truth,  to  preserve  and  maintain  intact  the  original  idea,  we 
must  still  see  that  there  is  a  great  deal  to  prevent  the  dogmati- 
cal task  from  being  executed  properly  and  justly.  And  the 
reason  is  that  amid  the  unavoidable  passion  and  agitation 
which  attends  theological  conflict,  we  may  make  a  mistake  as 
to  what  does  actually  interfere  with  an  idea,  what  does  conflict 
with  a  truth  or  doctrine.  We  may  think  that  something  does 
which  does  not.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  clear  and  indis- 
putable contradiction;  but  it  is  possible  also  to  imagine  one 
where  there  is  not :  and  so  to  exclude  as  inadmissible  and  as 
discordant  with  a  truth  of  revelation  something  which  is  in 
reality  not  so — something  which  co-exists  with  the  truth,  and 
which  is  not  inconsistent  with  it.  It  is  not  every  modification 
of  a  truth  and  every  distinction  which  can  be  drawn  in  the 
mode  of  carrying  it  out,  which  can  make  the  difference  of 
corrupting  the  integrity  of  that  truth  ;  it  is  only  some  importa- 
tions into  a  truth  which  can  occasion  this  result.  And  there- 
fore it  is  the  office  of  correct  dogmatism  to  discriminate  between 
those  differences  which  positively  conflict  with  a  truth  of  reve- 
lation, and  those  which  do  not,  but  leave  the  substance  of  it 
unimpaired.  Now  this  is  an  office  in  which  dogmatism  may 
fail;  and  where  it  does  fail,  it  does  an  injustice  to  those 
members  of  the  Church  whom  its  decision  affects ;  because  it 
thrusts  them  out  of  the  Church  as  holding  an  opinion  which 
is  in  contradiction  with  a  truth  of  Eevelation ;  whereas  the 
opinion  which  they  hold  is  compatible  with  that  truth. 

There  is  a  notion,  indeed,  entertained  by  some  that  the 
dogmatical  principle  acts  mathematically,  that  it  proceeds  by 
a  succession  of  steps,  each  of  which  follows  the  other  by 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      93 

necessary  sequence  ;  and  that  if  we  once  begin  we  must  accept 
any  fresh  link  of  the  chain  of  expo^tion,  definition,  and  elu^i- 
dation.  Nothing  can  be  further  from  the  truth  than  such  an 
account  of  it,  if  the  principle  at  least  is  carried  out  in  that 
way  in  which  alone,  consistently  with  truth  and  reason,  it  can 
be.  The  dogmatical  office  with  which  the  Church  is  invested 
is  especially  one  which  is  not  conducted  by  mathematical  proof 
and  an  infallible  evolution;  it  is  peculiarly  based  upon  the 
practical  kind  of  judgment  which  decides  each  case  as  it  arises 
upon  its  own  evidence  and  merits.  All  true  dogmatism — 
for  in  lack  of  other  terms  I  must  use  a  popularly  obnoxious 
one — is  specially  an  appeal  to  common  sense.  You  are  sum- 
moned in  it  to  compare  one  idea  with  another ;  an  idea  which 
revelation  has  communicated,  with  another  idea  which  it  is 
proposed  in  some  quarter  to  combine  with  that  revealed  one ; 
you  are  summoned  to  do  this,  in  order  simply  to  ascertain 
whether  in  plain  reason  they  agree  or  disagree ;  whether  the 
new  idea  is  inconsistent  with,  is  tenable  together  with,  the 
old  one,  or  is  at  discord  with  it.  This  is  a  kind  of  com- 
parison which  as  much  hangs  upon  a  sound  practical  judg- 
ment as  multitudes  of  cases  in  ordinary  life,  in  which  we  have 
to  compare  two  things  together.  But  it  is  this  comparison 
and  none  other  which  is  repeated  in  every  successive  decision 
which  is  made  in  the  course  of  the  dogmatical  defence  of  a 
sacred  truth.  There  is  a  recurrence  at  every  fresh  dogmatic 
occasion  to  a  fresh  comparison  of  the  original  idea  of  revela- 
tion with  some  other  idea  brought  forward  ;  to  see  if  they  agree 
or  disagree.  There  is  a  fresh  recurrence  every  time  to  com- 
mon sense  and  practical  judgment.  Does  this  article  of  faith 
which  has  been  communicated  to  us,  and  which  we  naturally 
understand  as  such  and  such  a  truth  and  no  other,  admit  of 
this  proposed  interpretation  ?  Let  us  compare  the  two  ideas, 
and  see  whether  they  can  be  held  together,  or  whether  one 
does  not  subvert  and  supplant  the  other.  This  is  a  matter  of 
judgment.  But  in  this  comparison  it  is  not  certain  that  the 
judgment  will  be  always  successful  and  make  no  mistake. 
Nor  will  it  follow  that  because  truth  has  been  secured,  and 
correct  decision  made  in  many  instances,  that  therefore  an 


94       The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method. 

incorrect  one  will  not  be  made  in  another  case  of  comparison 
when  it  occurs. 

The  dogmatic  decision,  for  example,  which  closed  the  Arian 
controversy,  was  the  result  of  a  comparison  of  two  broad  and 
clearly  marked  ideas,  which  obviously  could  not  be  combined 
or  reconciled.  One  plainly  clashed  with  the  other,  both  could 
not  be  held  together,  and  therefore  if  the  first  original  idea 
was  to  be  retained,  it  was  a  matter  of  necessity  that  the  new 
and  later  idea  must  be  excluded.  The  idea  of  Eevelation  was 
that  our  Lord  was  God.  The  Arian.  idea  was  that  our  Lord 
was  not  God,  but  a  transcendent  and  super-angelic  created 
Eeing,  made  at  God's  good  pleasure  before  the  world,  upon 
the  pattern  of  the  attribute  of  Logos  or  Wisdom  existing  in 
the  Divine  Mind ;  gifted  with  the  illumination  of  it,  and  in 
consequence  called  after  it;  the  instrument  of  creation  and 
revelation ;  and  at  length  united  to  a  human  body,  in  the 
place  of  a  soul,  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  Being 
which  our  Lord,  upon  this  idea,  was,  had  a  beginning  of  exist- 
ence— there  was  a  time  when  He  was  not,  and  He  was  formed 
from  what  once  was  not. 

Such  a  being  was  undoubtedly  an  extraordinary  and  per- 
plexing and  an  ambitious  conception  of  the  department  of 
mystical  and  speculative  theology ;  but  nothing  can  be  more 
certain  than  that  he  was  not  God,  as  such  a  being  was 
fundamentally  different  from  the  Divine  Being  at  every  point 
of  the  definition.  The  idea  of  Scripture  then,  and  the  Arian 
idea,  were  absolutely  at  variance.  In  Scripture,  "  The  Word 
was  God,  and  the  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us ;" 
the  two  elements  Scripture  admits  in  the  idea  of  the  Incarna- 
tion are  God  and  Man;  no  other  being  is  recognised.  But 
Arianism  introduced  into  the  structure  of  the  Incarnation 
another  being  who  displaced  both — both  God  and  Man ; 
a  being  whose  conception  was  drawn  from  a  Pagan  source, 
rather  than  a  Scriptural  one,  and  represented  the  monstrous 
imagination  of  oriental  religions — who  was  midway  between 
God  and  Man;  less  than  God,  and  more  than  angel — a  coun- 
terfeit Divine  Being  whom  simple  minds  would  confound  with 
the  true  one ;  who,  without  being  God,  was  creator  of  heaven 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      95 

and  earth,  and  without  being  God  or  Man,  was  mediator 
between  God  and  Man. 

The  final  decision,  then,  which  pronounced  that  the  idea 
of  Arianism  was  inconsistent  with  the  Scriptural  idea  of  the 
Incarnation  was  undoubtedly  a  correct  exertion  of  dogmatic 
judgment ;  because  the  two  were  really  mutually  contradictory; 
and  no  other  result  could  fairly  be  arrived  at.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  meet  with  a  doctrine  in  the  early  and  especially  the 
ante-Nicene  Fathers,  which  was  concerned  with  and  affected  in 
a  certain  sense  the  Godhead  of  our  Lord,  and  which  in  later 
ages  brought  down  upon  the  earlier  Fathers  in  some  quarters 
the  charge  of  Arianism,  but  which  did  not  in  reality  disagree 
with  our  Lord's  Godhead.  I  refer  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
subordinaieness  of  the  Son  to  God  the  Father,  as  being  the 
apX/i — the  beginning  and  fountain-head  of  the  Godhead — 
subordinateness  to  Him  in  that  one  respect,  that  the  Son's  was 
by  its  very  nature  a  derived  Godhead,  which,  though  co-eternal 
with  the  Father's,  flowed  forth  and  emanated  from  it ;  whereas 
the  Father's  Godhead  was  that  which  it  emanated  and  issued 
from — the  source  and  fountain  of  the  whole  Divinity.  The 
language  of  some  of  the  early  Fathers  insisted  strongly  on 
this  distinction,  and  even  occasionally  appeared,  on  a  cursory 
glance,  to  imply  an  essential  inferiority  in  the  nature  of  the 
Son  to  that  of  the  Father ;  though  this  inference  was  abun- 
dantly rectified  by  the  context  of  the  passages  and  by  the  whole 
general  language  of  the  writers ;  and  it  was  obvious  that  the 
subordinateness  meant  by  them  was  a  subordinateness  of 
derivation  only,  and  not  of  nature  or  of  power.  The  Church 
accordingly  never  touched  this  particular  language,  because 
there  was  no  incongruity  between  our  Lord's  being  a  derived 
Divinity  and  being  Divinity. 

And  so  with  respect  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  and 
certain  ideas  which  were  introduced  bearing  upon  the  internal 
structure  of  the  doctrine  and  relations  of  the  Three  Persons. 
When  Sabellianism  was  submitted  to  the  dogmatic  office  of  the 
Church,  it  was  condemned,  because  the  idea  of  the  Three 
Persons  being  only  three  characters  or  aspects  of  God  was  at 
plain  variance  with  their  personality  as  described  in  Scripture. 


96       The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method. 

Whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Procession  question  has  never 
been  dogmatised  upon  by  the  whole  Church,  because  that 
did  not,  one  way  or  another,  interfere  with  the  substantial 
idea  of  the  Trinity.  In  these  cases  the  dogmatic  judgment 
of  the  Church  pronounced  in  one  of  them  a  contradiction 
to  the  revealed  idea,  and  in  the  other  case  refused  to  pro- 
nounce it. 

We  are  here  indeed  upon  the  threshold  of  a  great  question. 
When  a  caution  against  an  excess  of  dogmatism  is  given,  when 
a  limit  is  enjoined,  and  when  distinctions  which  lie  beyond 
that  limit  are  condemned  as  subtleties  and  refinement,  the 
reply  often  is  that  upon  the  assumption  which  is  made  of  a 
mysterious  truth  to  begin  with,  we  are  no  judges  of  the  limit 
of  that  mystery,  of  the  extent  to  which  it  is  to  be  carried  out, 
or  of  the  minutise  and  refinements  of  distinction  which  it  is 
necessary  should  be  applied  to  it,  in  order  to  maintain  it  in 
its  integrity.  A  mysterious  truth,  it  is  said,  is  at  the  very 
commencement,  by  our  own  confession,  beyond  our  reason. 
We  therefore  have  committed  ourselves  to  the  abandonment 
of  reason  as  our  test  in  the  acceptance  of  it;  and  therefore 
cannot  claim  the  right  to  revert  to  reason  for  a  limitation 
and  check  upon  the  exposition  and  interpretation  of  it. 
This  is  the  argument,  for  instance,  used  in  reply  to  the 
objection  we  urge  to  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation  upon 
this  ground.  We  say  that  the  Roman  divines  push  a  mys- 
tery too  far ;  that  they  carry  it  into  subtleties  and  ex- 
tremes and  particularities  which  were  never  contemplated  in 
it,  which  are  over  rigorous  and  artificially  literal ;  and  that  it 
is  an  unreasonable  and  extravagant  explanation  of  the  change 
of  the  bread  and  wine  into  the  body  and  blood  to  suppose 
that  it  necessitates  the  actual  abolition  of  the  material  sub- 
stance of  the  former ;  and  they  reply  that  the  original  doctrine 
being  a  mystery  and  beyond  reason,  we  have  no  right  to 
appeal  to  reason  for  the  mode  of  explaining  it.  What  is 
this  consequence,  they  say,  that  you  call  extravagant,  more 
than  a  mystery,  and  you  acknowledge  a  mystery  to  begin 
with  ? 

Let  us  examine  this  position,  then,  that  Reason  is  no  judge 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      97 

with  respect  to  mysteries,  and  can  therefore  impose  no  check 
in  the  exposition  of  mysteries.  When  we  examine  this  matter, 
it  will  not  be  found  fairly  possible,  I  think,  to  maintain  such 
a  position.  It  is  quite  true  that  mysterious  truths  are  beyond 
reason,  they  are  beyond  by  the  very  fact  that  they  are 
mysterious.  And  yet  it  may  be  quite  true  too  that  reason  has 
certain  rights  appertaining  to  these  mysterious  truths,  and  that 
we  cannot  possibly  protect  ourselves  from  the  most  extrava- 
gant and  monstrous  delusions,  unless  we  are  ready  to  assign 
to  reason  some  substantial  functions  and  some  power  of 
interpretation  and  check  with  respect  to  mysteries.  In  the 
first  place,  with  respect  to  a  great  class  of  mysterious  truths, 
which  we  call  natural  mysteries,  reason  has  so  much  to  do 
with  them,  that  though  they  are  beyond  reason,  reason  herself 
is  the  very  discoverer  of  them.  We  should  know  nothing  of 
them  without  reason.  It  is  reason  that  imparts  these  incom- 
prehensible ideas  to  our  minds ;  and  that  which  lies  beyond 
reason  is  still  at  the  same  time  as  much  a  part  of  reason  itself 
as  any  other  of  the  materials  and  contents  of  this  high  faculty. 
Thus  the  idea  of  Infinity,  the  idea  of  Cause,  the  idea  of  Eight 
and  Wrong,  are  utterly  mysterious,  inexplicable,  and  incompre- 
hensible ;  and  yet  to  say  that  Eeason  judges  with  respect  to 
these  ideas,  judges  respecting  their  validity,  legitimacy,  and 
truth,  would  be  much  short  of  the  fact,  because,  indeed,  they 
spring  out  of  reason,  and  they  enter  into  its  very  composition. 
Nor  when  we  come  to  supernatural  mysteries  can  it  be 
said  that  reason  has  no  office  or  function  with  respect  to  them  ; 
that  it  has  no  accepting  and  satisfying  power,  that  it  has  no 
concurring  part  to  take,  that  it  has  no  criterion  by  which  it  can 
adopt  some  mysteries  as  reasonable,  and  reject  others — if  they 
are  proposed  to  it — as  fanciful  and  monstrous.  Unless  we 
admit  some  such  discriminating  office  as  this  in  reason  with 
respect  to  supernatural  ideas  communicated  to  us,  we  as  good 
as  confess  that,  as  far  as  internal  evidence  is  concerned,  all 
mysteries  are  alike ;  that  they  all  stand  on  the  same  ground  as 
regards  acceptance  or  rejection,  and  that  they  are  all  alike 
unmeaning  and  senseless  enigmas.  But  surely  to  say  that  in 
respect  of  intrinsic  acceptableness,  propriety,  suitableness,  fitness, 

G 


98       The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method. 

agreement  with  man's  sense  and  reason,  there  is  no  difference 
between  the  idea  of  the  Incarnation  and  any  other  incompre- 
hensible conception  which  can  be  presented  to  the  imagination, 
is  to  say  something  at  variance  with  the  common  sense  of 
mankind.  God  being  invested  by  religion  with  special  rela- 
tions to  man,  as  being  not  only  the  creator  and  preserver  of 
the  race  of  man,  but  as  its  inspirer  and  moral  guide,  it  has 
ever  appeared  a  meet  and  congenial  idea  to  the  religious 
thought  and  sentiment  of  the  human  race,  that  God  should 
come  down  from  His  high  throne  in  heaven  to  assume  a 
greater  fellowship  with  man,  and  to  take  upon  Him  his  nature. 
The  idea  of  the  Incarnation  has  thus  always  been  a  natural 
idea  to  man,  it  has  been  incorporated  in  the  religious  imagina- 
tion ;  and  though  it  has  taken  often  extravagant  and  grotesque 
forms,  the  substance  of  the  idea  has  united  itself  with  the 
deepest  poetry  and  philosophy. 

It  would  not  be  right  then  to  put  the  idea  of  the  Incarna- 
tion on  a  par  with  any  other  inconceivable  idea,  however 
devoid  of  meaning,  prodigious  or  frivolous,  which  might  be 
proposed  to  the  human  mind.  But  to  say  this  is  to  say  that 
Eeason  is  a  judge  of  mysteries,  and  has  a  right  of  discrimination 
with  regard  to  them.  So  the  idea  of  an  Atonement  has 
approved  itself  to  the  religious  mind  of  man  in  all  ages ;  nor 
would  any  one  be  borne  out  by  the  general  voice  of  the 
human  race  in  saying  that,  because  an  atonement  was  an 
incomprehensible  idea,  it  was  therefore  on  a  level  with  any 
other  incomprehensible  idea  which  human  fancy  could  con- 
ceive. Yet  to  say  this  is  to  say  again  that  reason  is  a  judge 
of  mysteries,  a  judge  at  the  outset  as  to  what  it  is  in  sympathy 
with,  and  what,  by  an  inner  verdict,  it  discards ;  what  is  a 
rational  mystery  and  what  is  an  irrational  one. 

And  as  Reason  is  not  prevented  by  the  incomprehensibleness 
of  mysterious  truths  from  having  a  voice  at  the  outset  in  the 
acceptance  and  rejection  of  them,  so  it  is  not  prevented,  by  the 
same  fact,  from  having  a  right  to  exercise  a  check  upon  the 
mode  of  carrying  out,  developing,  and  interpreting  mysterious 
truths.  Eeason  does  not  grasp  these  truths ;  in  the  very 
nature  of  the  case  it  does  not :  and  yet  it  may  have  a  suffi- 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      99 

cient  practical  insight  into  the  meaning  and  scope  of  them  to 
know  when  an  explanation  and  interpretation  of  these  truths 
agrees  and  coincides  with  this  scope ;  and  when  it  goes  beyond 
it  and  runs  into  excess  and  minutiae  irrelevant  to  the  import 
and  design  of  these  mysteries  ; — to  know  when  the  substance 
of  the  truth  is  adhered  to,  and  when  the  substance  of  truth  is 
lost  sight  of,  and  the  mind  is  diverted  into  inconsequent 
subtleties  and  fine-spun  distinctions  carried  out  beyond  all 
the  needs  of  truth,  and  therefore  to  the  injury  and  misrepre- 
sentation of  truth. 

To  say  that  a  mystery  is  beyond  reason,  and  that  its 
exposition  cannot  be  regulated  by  reason,  is  one  of  those 
abstract  arguments  which  ought  to  have  purely  abstract 
premisses  to  deal  with.  In  the  present  case  we  are  dealing 
with  nothing  abstract,  but  with  that  actual  relation  in  which 
we  stand  intellectually  to  mysterious  truths.  This  is  an 
actual  matter  of  mental  experience,  and  in  examining  it, 
we  find  that  it  is  a  divided  state  of  things.  We  know  and 
we  do  not  know,  we  know  in  one  sense,  and  we  do  not  know 
in  another.  A  mystery  is  an  enigma,  and  yet  it  is  not  wholly 
an  enigma.  There  are  various  truths  which  we  partly  con- 
ceive, and  partly  fail  in  conceiving.  Eeason  falls  short,  but 
reason  has  still  such  an  insight  into  the  meaning  of  mysterious 
truths  as  serves  the  practical  purposes  of  religion ;  and  this 
measure  of  insight  is  enough  to  warrant  her  right  to  impose  a 
check  upon  the  dogmatic  exposition  of  them, — to  justify  a 
discriminating  function  on  the  part  of  reason,  to  distinguish 
when  explanation  fulfils  and  when  it  exceeds  its  purpose. 

I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  explain  the  dogmatic  office ; 
first,  the  true  scope  of  it,  which  is  the  preservation  and  defence 
of,  as  distinct  from  adding  to,  the  stock  of  revealed  truth  ;  and 
secondly,  the  mode  in  which  it  acts,  namely,  by  a  comparison, 
— a  comparison  between  some  new  proposed  idea  to  interpret 
revelation  and  the  original  idea  of  revelation  itself.  If  in  the 
comparison  it  appears  that  one  of  these  ideas  is  inconsistent 
with,  and  contradictory  to,  the  other,  it  is  the  part  of  the 
dogmatic  office  to  exclude  the  new  idea,  in  order  to  preserve 
the  original  one.  If,  on  the  other,  the  two  are  tenable  together, 


ioo     The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method. 

then  the  dogmatic  office  allows  and  admits  the  new  idea.  No 
guarantee,  however,  is  given  that  the  dogmatic  office — whatever 
be  the  zeal  of  men,  and  the  goodness  of  men's  intention — will 
invariably  be  exercised  with  perfect  accuracy ;  and  the  com- 
parison, when  made,  lead  to  a  correct  result.  The  Church,  as 
keeper  and  guardian  of  the  deposit  of  the  faith,  has  undoubt- 
edly executed  her  trust  with  such  a  degree  of  fidelity,  as  that 
that  deposit  has  been  preserved  against  the  attacks  of  enemies  ; 
and  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints  has  not  been  lost,  or 
the  gates  of  hell  prevailed  against  it.  But  it  would  be  a  too 
flattering  description  of  the  dogmatic  career  of  the  Church  to 
say  that  she  has  never  erred  on  the  side  of  over  rigour  and 
strained  exactness ;  that  while  she  has  certainly  secured  the 
perpetuity  of  the  faith,  she  has  not  sometimes  excluded  legiti- 
mate opinion ;  that  while  she  has  kept  out  what  was  contra- 
dictory to  fundamental  truth,  she  has  not  sometimes  failed  to 
include  what  was  admissible. 

It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  where  the  Church 
committed  an  error  of  judgment  in  the  exercise  of  her  dog- 
matic function,  she  always  did  it  from  despotic  and  arbitrary 
motives.  Doubtless  those  motives  mingled  with  others  in 
determining  her  policy  when  it  was  too  exclusive ;  and  they 
became  stronger  as  heresy  advanced ;  but  in  the  earlier  ages 
at  any  rate  such  motives  were  tempered  by  more  excusable 
ones.  The  ferment  of  theological  intellect,  the  interminable 
agitation,  the  constant  rise  of  heresies  and  the  perpetual 
necessity  of  resistance,  imparted  a  strained  and  eager  jealousy 
to  that  watchfulness  and  guardianship  which  was,  under  all 
circumstances,  the  Church's  duty :  the  protraction  of  the 
strife  aggravated  the  temper  of  the  defender,  till  the  Church 
grew  suspicious  and  apprehensive,  and  began  to  detect  a 
heresy  under  every  rising  expression.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  if  spiritual  ambition  is  pushing  and  coercing,  love  sub- 
ject to  human  frailty  is  also  fidgety  and  interfering.  Such 
love  may  indulge  in  a  too  constant  manipulation  of  the  sacred 
deposit,  may  exult  in  new  definitions,  and  show  a  sincere  but 
still  weak  fondness  in  a  too  lively  pugnacity  and  a  too  restless 
temperament  in  its  defence.  It  is  ever  the  natural  tendency 


The  Dogmatic  Office,  its  Scope  and  Method.      101 

of  love  to  suspect  attacks  which  are  not  meant.  Dogmatism, 
then,  even  when  strained,  is  not  necessarily  strained  in  simple 
tyranny.  The  Creed  was  the  joy,  the  hope,  and  the  inspiration 
of  the  Church,  it  contained  everything  she  cared  for.  The 
Truth  was  her  one  treasure;  and  if  in  her  treatment  and 
defence  of  it  she  occasionally  erred  on  the  side  of  an  excessive 
watchfulness,  her  watchfulness  was  stimulated  by  affection; 
it  is  natural  to  be  busy  and  active,  even  over-anxious  and 
scrupulous  about  that  which  we  love. 


IO2 


Vll.— MYSTERIOUS  TRUTHS.1 

CERTAIN  truths  or  doctrines  of  Christianity  are  mysterious 
ones,  and  we  appeal  to  this  characteristic  of  their  mysterious- 
ness  in  order  to  defend  them  from  the  charge  of  injustice 
which  is  brought  against  them.  Such  are  the  doctrines  of 
Original  Sin  and  the  Atonement.  When  the  charge  is  brought 
against  these  doctrines  that  they  are  opposed  to  our  natural 
idea  of  justice,  we  reply  that  they  are  truths  of  which  we  have 
not  complete  and  distinct  ideas,  and  that  therefore  we  are  not 
in  a  position  to  bring  such  a  charge  against  these  truths. 
They  are  truths  with  which  the  common  sense  and  feeling  of 
mankind  have  sympathised,  and  which  human  nature  has 
adopted.  They  agree  with  human  reason  in  a  large  and 
general  way.  On  the  other  hand  there  are  certain  difficulties, 
and  difficulties  of  a  moral  kind  in  them.  What  we  say  then 
is — these  truths  are  mysterious  truths;  they  are  truths  of 
which  we  have  only  an  indistinct  perception  intellectually. 
We  cannot  attribute  then  any  validity  to  the  moral  objections 
raised  against  them,  because  we  must  have  a  definite  intellec- 
tual idea  of  the  truths  themselves,  we  must  know  distinctly 
what  they  are  before  we  can  say  what  objections  they  are 
open  to. 

But  we  cannot  enter  fully  into  the  position  that  these  truths 
are  mysterious,  that  is,  truths  to  which  we  have  no  distinct 
corresponding  ideas  in  our  minds,  without  our  attention  being 
awakened  in  the  very  act  of  embracing  and  dwelling  on  this 
characteristic  of  these  truths,  to  certain  objections  which  have 
arisen  on  this  very  ground,  namely,  on  the  ground  of  their 
mystery  or  incomprehensibleness  ;  and  especially  to  the  imposi- 
tion of  them  as  articles  of  faith.  For  however  necessary  such 

1  Delivered  in  the  Latin  Chapel. 


Mysterious  Truths.  103 

an  explanation  and  statement  of  the  mysteriousness  of  these 
doctrines  may  be  for  the  purpose  of  defending  their  truth,  or 
of  guarding  against  particular  objections,  we  cannot  dwell 
forcibly  on  the  consideration  that  these  truths  are  mysterious, 
— in  their  own  nature  unknown  or  only  half-known  truths — we 
cannot  set  forth,  I  say,  this  whole  characteristic  of  these  truths 
without  being  aware  that  we  are  setting  forth,  and  taking  par- 
ticular pains  to  impose,  just  that  aspect  of  them  of  which 
objectors  are  most  ready  to  lay  hold,  as  a  ground  for  rejecting 
them  altogether,  or  at  any  rate  for  not  imposing  them  as  essen- 
tial. This  is  the  natural  effect  of  endeavouring  to  steer  a 
middle  course  between  two  extremes,  that  of  rejecting  mystery, 
and  that  of  embracing  it  at  the  cost  of  reason.  In  arguing 
against  a  false  conclusion  from  an  article  of  faith,  such  as 
shocks  our  moral  sense,  it  is  necessary  to  show  the  incorrect 
manner  of  holding  such  an  article  of  faith,  from  which  such  a 
conclusion  arises;  namely,  that  persons  forget  that  they  hold  the 
article  as  a  mystery,  and  that  consequently  they  cannot  build 
upon  it  as  if  it  were  an  ordinarily  intelligible  truth.  But  this 
defence  against  erroneous  inferences  on  one  side  exposes  the 
truths  themselves  to  the  attack  I  have  just  mentioned  on  the 
other.  For  it  may  be  asked,  Why  are  these  truths  considered 
of  so  much  importance,  when  those  who  think  them  so  are 
obliged,  in  order  to  guard  their  own  maintenance  of  them,  not 
only  to  admit,  but  to  press  the  consideration  that  they  are 
truths  at  present  incomprehensible  to  us,  and  that  we  have  no 
idea  fully  and  distinctly  corresponding  to  them  in  our  minds  ? 

This  use  then  which  is  made  of  the  mysteriousness  of 
these  doctrines  for  setting  aside  the  importance  of  them 
altogether  must  be  considered  in  its  place ;  but  I  shall  begin 
with  the  general  objections  raised  against  this  class  of  doctrines. 

The  first  objection,  then,  usually  brought  against  this  class 
of  doctrines  by  writers  of  the  Socinian  School,  is  that  they  are 
contrary  to  natural  reason.  But  this  cannot  be  justifiably  said 
apart  from  considering  the  sense  in  which  these  doctrines  are 
imposed.  These  doctrines  are  not  imposed  upon  men  to  be 
held  in  any  sense  contrary  to  natural  reason,  but  only  as 
representations,  accommodated  to  our  limited  faculties,  of  truths 


IO4  Mysterious  Truths. 

which  are  beyond  our  reason.  Indeed,  we  cannot  but  regard  this 
objection, — of  these  doctrines  being  contrary  to  reason, — as  a 
misconception  at  the  outset ;  a  mistake  as  to  a  matter  of  fact, 
as  to  what  the  Church's  intention  in  imposing  these  doctrines 
is ;  and  the  mode  in  which  the  Church  supposes  them  to  be 
received  and  entertained  by  believers.  For  can  any  one 
seriously  think  that  the  Church  requires  men  to  believe  what 
is  contrary  to  reason  ?  Can  there  be  in  truth  any  controversy 
as  to  such  a  question,  or  will  not  any  one  admit  at  once  that 
no  one  ought  to  believe  what  is  contrary  to  natural  reason  ?  Our 
reason  is  as  much  the  gift  of  God,  and  is  as  sacred,  as  reve- 
lation ;  to  violate  it  therefore  in  any  of  our  notions,  in  any  belief 
entertained  by  us,  would  be  plainly  as  wrong  as  to  disbelieve 
any  special  revelation  of  God.  Yet  this  mistake  as  to  what  is 
required  from  us  for  belief  in  these  doctrines  is  perhaps  the 
strongest,  the  most  influential  source  of  opposition  to  them. 
This  appears  to  be  the  great  practical  argument  which  settles 
the  question  as  regards  them.  The  certainty  of  the  principle 
itself,  that  nothing  is  to  be  believed  that  is  contrary  to  reason, 
seems  to  prove  its  own  application,  and  to  supersede  the 
necessity  of  inquiry  as  to  whether  this  rule  is  really  opposed 
in  the  case  of  belief  in  these  doctrines.  These  truths  do,  indeed, 
in  their  mode  of  expression,  contain  difficulties,  but  we  must 
not  stop  short  at  the  outside,  we  must  enter  into  the  real 
substance  of  the  case,  the  mode  and  the  sense  in  which  these 
truths  are  held,  the  real  intellectual  relations  involved  in  this 
belief.  From  this  whole  real  interior  of  the  question,  the 
objector's  mind  allows  itself  to  be  excluded  by  the  bar  of  that 
mere  necessary  imperfection  of  language  in  which  these  truths 
are  embodied.  He  satisfies  himself  with  the  truth  of  the 
general  formula  he  has  adopted — that  we  must  not  contradict 
reason — which  is  indeed  unquestionable,  without  going  into 
the  evidence  as  to  the  matter  of  fact,  or  ascertaining  whether 
we  do  contradict  reason  in  the  particular  case.  Indeed  men 
are  generally  very  apt  to  rest  in  the  assertion  of  some  maxim 
or  principle,  and  think  that  that  does  everything  for  them  ;  as 
if  its  intrinsic  weight  and  strength  were  a  pledge  for  the 
correctness  of  their  application  of  it.  That  men,  however, 


Mysterious  Truths.  105 

of  great  acuteness  and  much  reflection  should  stop  short  in 
such  impressions  with  regard  to  these  doctrines,  is  somewhat 
surprising,  and  only  shows  what  great  force  preliminary 
impressions  have,  and  what  obstructions  they  raise. 

This  mistake  in  the  Socinian  School  with  respect  to  these 
doctrines  is  not  unlike  some  of  those  great  current  mistakes 
on  particular  subjects,  which  operate,  on  a  much  larger  scale, 
upon  whole  portions  of  mankind  ;  mistakes  which,  once  estab- 
lished, sustain  themselves  by  their  own  weight.  One  con- 
solation, however,  may  perhaps  be  derived  from  such  a  state 
of  the  case,  namely,  that  as  all  such  mistakes  as  to  matter 
of  fact  have  really  no  ground  in  men's  intellects,  but  only  one 
of  particular  prevalence  and  tradition,  this  amongst  others  may 
some  day  recede  to  a  considerable  extent  before  the  influence 
of  clear  and  reasonable  explanation;  when,  of  those  who 
believe  in  these  doctrines,  persons  from  time  to  time  step 
forward  to  show  in  what  manner  they  are  really  held  by  those 
who  devoutly  believe  in  them  ;  and  that  this  manner  involves 
no  opposition  to  reason,  in  which  case  we  may  hope  that  the 
objections  of  many  to  accept  these  doctrines  will  disappear. 
For  certainly  when  one  sees  the  serious  and  conscientious  type 
on  which  the  minds  of  some  who  have  rejected  and  argued 
against  these  doctrines,  as  contrary  to  reason,  are  formed  ;  their 
deep  sense  of  moral  truth,  their  acknowledgment  of  Divine 
influences,  their  strong  religious  instincts,  and  susceptibility  to 
all  the  mysteries  of  natural  religion,  one  cannot  but  think  that 
it  is  some  great  misapprehension  which  keeps  them  from  the 
truth,  on  the  removal  of  which  they  would  discover  its  real 
congeniality  with  their  minds.  For  what  objection — I  mean 
what  objection  which  operates  to  the  positive  rejection  of  these 
doctrines — is  left  when  the  ground  of  their  repugnancy  to 
reason  is  gone  ?  There  is  none.  All  that  can  then  be  said 
is  that  they  are  beyond  reason.  And  will  any  reasonable  man 
deny  the  possibility  of  there  being  truths  beyond  our  reason,  or 
say  that  he  certainly  knows  the  human  intellect  is  coincident 
with  all  being  ?  And  in  the  absence  of  all  positive  ground  of 
reason  against  these  doctrines,  the  evident  witness — though  not 
in  the  same  precise  terms  in  which  they  are  expressed  in  our 


io6  Mysterious  Truths. 

Creeds  and  Articles — of  Scripture  to  them,  and  their  early  and 
universal  reception,  must  strike  and  impress  all  candid  minds. 
For  Scripture  is  at  present  interpreted  by  these  minds 
according  to  a  previous  judgment  that  these  doctrines  are  in 
themselves  unreasonable ;  upon  which  judgment  it  is  necessary, 
however  strong  the  language  of  Scripture  may  apparently  be  in 
favour  of  such  doctrines,  to  interpret  it  differently ;  upon  the 
sound  rule,  that  if  Scripture  appears  to  assert  anything  which 
is  contrary  to  reason,  such  apparent  meaning  cannot  be  the 
real  one.  But  if  that  judgment  is  displaced,  then  there  will  be 
room  immediately  for  the  natural  interpretation  of  Scripture. 

But  supposing  due  attention  paid  to  the  manner  in  which 
these  doctrines  are  held,  and  supposing  it  admitted  in  con- 
sequence that  these  doctrines  are  not  contrary  to  reason,  the 
very  argument  which  has  cleared  them  of  opposition  to  reason 
exposes  them  to  the  other  objection  above  mentioned,  for 
it  may  be  said,  "  If  you  do  not  hold  anything  contrary  to 
reason,  because  you  are  holding  what  is  not  distinctly  under- 
stood,— what  is  so  dim  and  obscure  that  its  meaning  cannot  be 
grasped, — are  you  not  under  a  mistake  in  imagining  you  are 
holding  anything  at  all?  For  what  is  the  meaning  of  holding, 
embracing,  entertaining  a  truth,  except  that  you  first  know 
what  that  which  is  proposed  to  your  acceptance  is,  and  then 
decide,  on  whatever  evidence,  that  it  is  true  ?  Thus  in  believing 
that  a  particular  event  took  place,  you  have  an  idea  in  the  first 
instance  of  what  such  an  event  is,  say  a  battle,  an  earthquake, 
or  any  particular  thing  that  this  or  that  person  has  said  or  done, 
and  then  you  decide  that  such  an  event  took  place.  You  form 
a  conception  in  some  rough  way  of  what  takes  place  in  a  battle, 
or  a  convulsion  of  the  earth's  surface,  or  of  a  person's  speech,  or 
of  a  person's  action;  and  the  conception  formed,  you  believe  that 
of  which  it  is  the  conception,  to  have  occurred.  But  it  may  be 
said  if  you  have  no  idea  in  your  mind,  in  the  first  instance,  of 
what  a  truth  proposed  to  your  acceptance  is,  you  cannot 
believe  it,  because  there  is  nothing  to  believe.  Belief  implies  a 
subject  of  it,  something  with  which  it  comes  into  contact,  and 
in  which  it  rests  ;  and  this  subject  can  only  be  provided  by 
your  having  the  distinct  idea  of  something  or  other,  in  which 


Mysterious  Truths.  107 

you  believe.  One  state  of  mind  can  only  differ  intellectually 
from  another  by  having  some  idea  which  the  other  has  not ; 
if  a  man  holds  a  truth  then  without  having  the  distinct  idea  of 
it,  how  does  he  differ  from  one  who  does  not  hold  it?  They  are 
both  in  reality  in  the  same  state  of  mind,  being  alike  without 
the  idea  of  the  truth  in  question  ;  and  they  can  only  by  some 
great  inattention  and  mistake  imagine  themselves  to  differ." 

Upon  the  defence  and  vindication,  then,  of  these  Christian 
doctrines  on  the  ground  of  their  mysteriousness,  these  doctrines 
become  exposed  to  such  reasoning  as  this  ;  and  it  is  objected  in 
the  case  of  the  mysterious  truths  of  the  Trinity,  the  Incarnation, 
Original  Sin,  and  the  Atonement,  that  those  who  hold  them 
are  under  a  serious  mistake  and  delusion  in  imagining  they  are 
really  holding  any  truths  at  all,  in  holding  truths  of  which  they 
profess  not  to  have  the  distinct  ideas.  A  Trinity,  for  example, 
in  the  Unity  of  the  Godhead  is  maintained,  or,  that  in  the  One 
Divine  Being  there  are  three  Personal  Beings.  It  is  objected 
that  this  is  contrary  to  reason ;  the  objection  is  met  by  the 
answer  that  terms  are  used  here  in  an  unknown  sense,  in  which 
sense  we  cannot  say  it  is  impossible  that  this  proposition  can 
be  true ;  for  this  simple  reason,  that  the  proposition  itself  is 
not  known.  But  then,  it  is  rejoined,  if  the  truth  is  unknown 
we  are  holding  nothing  in  holding  it,  and  there  is  a  simple  void 
in  our  minds  while  we  entertain  this  article  of  faith.  So  in 
the  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation,  in  which  we  hold  that  a  Divine 
and  a  human  being  are  but  one  Being,  the  same  objection  is 
made,  and  the  same  answer  is  returned,  at  the  cost  of  the  same 
rejoinder.  In  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  again,  according  as 
it  is  expressed,  we  hold  an  actual  share  in  the  sin  of  Adam 
taken  by  all  mankind,  or  a  responsibility  for  another's  sin  :  to 
the  objection  that  this  is  contrary  to  justice,  we  say  that  this 
is  mysterious  sin,  mysterious  responsibility.  In  the  doctrine  of 
the  Atonement  again  we  hold  in  the  same  way  a  mysterious  sub- 
stitution of  one  person's  merit  for  another's.  With  respect  to  this 
whole  class  of  mysterious  truths,  then,  we  are  reminded  that  we 
are  under  a  mistake  if  we  suppose  that  we  are  really  holding 
truths  at  all  in  holding  them  ;  that  we  have  not  the  distinct 
ideas  of  them  in  our  minds ;  and  therefore  our  minds  are,  in  the 


io8  Mysterious  Truths. 

act  of  entertaining  them,  vacant,  and  devoid  of  ideas.  Whatever 
importance  then,  it  is  said,  custom  or  tradition  may  have  given 
to  these  truths,  however  strong  the  habitual  impression  may  be 
that  our  minds  have  hold  of  them,  it  is  certain,  on  the  simplest 
philosophical  principles,  that  as  we  have  not  the  distinct  ideas 
of  these  truths,  we  do  not  and  cannot  hold  these  truths. 

And  if  this  is  the  case,  it  is  added,  if  we  cannot  even  in  any 
true  sense  hold  these  truths  at  all,  how  a  fortiori  can  we  impose 
and  enforce  them  as  fundamental  ones  ?  How  can  we  make  them 
the  very  foundation  of  the  Christian  scheme,  and  build  funda- 
mental religious  distinctions  upon  them  ?  How  can  we  draw  a 
barrier  of  separation  between  those  who  accept  and  those  who  do 
not  accept  such  truths  as  if  there  were  the  greatest  possible 
difference  in  their  belief,  when  all  the  time,  if  we  examine  the  real 
state  of  mind  of  these  two,  we  shall  find  that  both  are  alike 
without  the  distinct  idea  of  what  these  truths  are  ? 

The  whole  objection,  then,  which  has  been  just  described, 
calls  for  our  notice,  and,  if  we  can  give  it  one,  for  an  answer. 
And  the  answer  to  it  appears  to  me  a  very  simple  and  plain 
one.  This  whole  objection  appears  to  rest  on  the  assump- 
tion that  we  cannot  entertain  truths  of  which  we  have  not  the 
full  idea  or  conception.  Now,  if  by  having  no  idea  of  a  truth 
be  meant  having  no  idea  at  all  bearing  upon  it, — having  no 
thought  of  any  kind  in  our  minds  regarding  it,  this  assump- 
tion is  true  ;  but  then  this  assumption  does  not  apply  to 
the  case  of  these  doctrines,  for  we  plainly  receive  some  ideas 
or  other  into  our  minds  connected  with  them.  But  if  by  having 
no  idea  of  these  truths  is  only  meant  having  no  distinct  or  full 
idea  of  them,  then  it  is  not  true  that  we  cannot  entertain 
truths  of  which  we  have  no  distinct  idea ;  and  those  who  sup- 
pose so  have  an  incorrect  and  defective  notion  of  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  human  mind.  The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  as 
to  have  relations  to  truth  without  the  medium  of  distinct  ideas 
or  conceptions  ;  and  that  in  two  ways. 

First  then,  we  encounter  in  nature  a  class  of  truths  of 
which  we  have  no  distinct  idea,  truths  of  fundamental  import- 
ance in  philosophy.  Besides  the  whole  class  of  ordinary,  dis- 
tinct, and  plain  ideas  which  we  have,  whether  in  the  sphere  of 


Mysterious  Truths.  109 

sensation  or  of  mathematics,  we  encounter  also  in  our  minds 
another  and  a  different  class  of  ideas,  to  which  I  wish  to  call 
attention  here ;  the  characteristic  of  which  is  their  very  im- 
perfect, dim,  and  only  incipient  apprehension ;  while  at  the 
same  time  they  are  ideas  to  which  we  are  constantly  referring, 
and  on  which  we  depend  for  our  most  important  conclusions 
in  philosophy  and  religion.  We  know,  and  are  convinced,  that 
we  are  able  to  hold  and  do  hold  these  truths.  Our  minds  are 
so  constituted  that  we  have  the  knowledge  of  the  existence  of 
certain  truths,  of  which  truths  themselves  at  the  same  time  we 
have  no  distinct  idea  or  representation  in  our  minds.  The 
constitution  of  our  minds,  I  say,  makes  this  mixed  state  of 
ignorance  and  knowledge  possible  to  us.  Were  the  alternative  of 
pure  ignorance  or  pure  knowledge  necessary,  it  is  evident  that, 
when  we  left  the  sensible  world,  which  supplies  the  subject- 
matter  of  simple  apprehension,  and  the  sphere  of  demonstrative 
meaning,  we  should  be  immediately  in  a  state  of  absolute 
ignorance  and  utter  darkness ;  we  should  not  only  be  igno- 
rant of  the  nature  of  other  truths,  but  should  have  no  sort  of 
idea  what  those  truths  were  of  which  we  were  ignorant,  and 
should  be  wholly  unable  to  think  of  or  discuss  them  on  that 
account.  We  should  be  cut  off  from  the  greater  part  of  that 
higher  thought  and  philosophy  which  has  occupied  the  human 
mind  in  all  ages  ;  and  the  science  of  metaphysics  would  not 
exist.  But  this  alternative  is  not  necessary.  We  have  an  idea 
of  the  existence  of  truths,  of  which  truths  themselves  we  cannot 
form  a  true  conception  ;  that  is,  we  have  some  idea  of  truths,  of 
which  we  have  no  adequate  or  complete  idea.  We  are  not  en- 
tirely cut  off  from  them  ;  we  have  some  kind  of  apprehension 
of  them.  I  will  instance  the  ideas  of  Substance,  Cause,  Mind 
or  Spirit,  Power,  Infinity.  We  have  evidently  no  distinct  idea 
of  them ;  at  the  same  time  we  have  some  idea.  We  find  that  our 
rational  nature  then  introduces  us  to  a  set  of  truths  which  are 
incomprehensible ;  truths  to  which  we  have  no  corresponding 
or  proportionate  ideas,  though  we  have  ideas  just  sufficient  to 
acquaint  us  with  them  ;  that  is  to  say,  we  find  that  our  rational 
nature  introduces  us  to  a  class  of  mysterious  truths.  We  are 
conscious  of  various  ideas  and  conceptions,  which  we  cannot 


iio  Mysterious  Truths. 

open  out,  or  realise  as  whole  and  consistent  ones  ;  we  feel  our- 
selves reaching  after  what  we  cannot  grasp,  and  moving  onward 
in  thought  toward  something  which  we  cannot  overtake. 
Mysterious  truths  are  not  confined  to  religion,  but  are  extracted 
by  my  reason  out  of  this  world  of  sense.  I  move  in  the  direc- 
tion of  a  Substance  in  sensible  Nature,  which  I  cannot  apprehend. 
I  move  in  the  direction  of  a  Cause  which  I  cannot  apprehend. 
That  very  Space  in  which  I  am  included  is  mysterious  as  soon 
as  I  extend  it  in  thought  to  Infinity.  What  is  an  infinite  number 
of  stars  which  we  believe  to  exist  but  a  simple  mystery  to  me  ? 
It  is  a  wholly  incomprehensible  fact,  though  we  are  sure  it  is  a 
fact,  or  at  any  rate  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  it  is. 

Again,  if  the  rational  contemplation  of  simple  nature  leads 
us  to  mysterious  truths,  certainly  Natural  Eeligion  is  a  system 
entirely  based  upon  them.  We  cannot  think  for  an  instant  of 
so  stupendous  a  truth  as  that  of  an  Infinite  Omnipresent  Being 
without  seeing  that  in  entertaining  such  a  truth  we  are  wholly 
in  advance  of  all  our  clear  conceptions,  and  that  we  are  without 
the  adequate  idea  or  representation  in  our  minds  of  that  in  which 
we  believe.  It  is  evident  that,  while  our  reason  has  just  light 
enough  to  see  its  want  of,  and  necessary  movement  toward,  this 
conclusion,  it  is  still  excluded  by  a  veil  from  the  truth  itself, 
unable  to  attain  the  vision  of  it,  and  entertaining  it  altogether 
in  a  way  quite  opposite  to  the  mathematical,  or  to  clearness  of 
conception. 

The  Divine  Personality  is  another  cardinal  truth  of  natural 
religion,  and  is  a  wholly  incomprehensible  one.  Our  reason, 
independently  of  moral  considerations,  points  to  one  Supreme 
Intelligent  Cause  of  the  Universe,  and  intelligence  implies 
personality ;  for  we  cannot  think  of  a  designing  mind  that 
forms  and  executes  plans  and  adopts  means  to  ends  without 
attributing  to  it  that  kind  of  unity  and  individuality  which  we 
find  in  ourselves,  and  which  is  expressed  by  the  word  Person- 
ality. And  natural  religion  brings  in  the  important  consideration 
of  our  moral  nature,  and  the  idea  of  God  as  the  Moral  Gover- 
nor of  the  world ;  and  this  is  a  great  addition  of  force  and 
substance  to  the  idea  of  His  Personality  ;  for  God  is  represented 
as  being  of  a  particular  character.  Natural  religion  too,  brings 


Mysterious  Truths.  1 1 1 

in  the  idea  of  Providence,  and  the  constant  superintendence  of 
God  over  the  actions  and  affairs  of  mankind.  A  God  who 
takes  an  interest  in  all  human  events,  who  disapproves  of  the 
evil  and  loves  the  good,  is  especially  a  Personal  Being ;  and 
therefore  natural  religion  may  be  said  to  teach,  in  a  way  in 
which  the  contemplation  of  external  nature  does  not,  the  Deity. 
But  such  personality  is  wholly  incomprehensible  in  an  In- 
finite and  Omnipresent  Being,  and  we  can  form  no  conception 
of  it.  That  idea  of  a  personal  being  which  we  have  in  our 
minds  is  uniformly  taken  from  that  kind  of  personal  existence 
with  which  we  are  acquainted  ;  nor  can  we  form  a  conception 
of  any  other.  But  the  kind  of  personal  existence  with  which 
we  are  acquainted  is  a  limited  and  local  one  ;  it  is  included  in 
a  particular  form  and  confined  to  place.  We  possess  the  idea 
of  man  as  a  person,  as  being  bounded  by  a  certain  bodily 
shape  and  outline,  and  only  existing  in  one  place  at  a  time. 
We  can  form  no  idea  whatever  of  a  person  who  pervades  all 
space,  and  is  in  every  part  of  the  Universe  ;  and  to  apply  our 
thoughts  to  the  Divine  Omnipresence  is  always  to  diminish  for 
the  time  our  idea  of  the  Divine  Personality. 

To  those,  then,  who  object  to  the  mysterious  truths  of 
Christianity,  who  say  that  they  are  truths  of  which  we  have 
no  definite  idea,  and  that  therefore  we  cannot  apprehend  them 
ourselves,  and  still  less  have  the  right  to  enforce  them  upon 
others  as  fundamental  articles  of  faith,  this  is  the  answer  which 
may  be  returned :  Eeason  itself  suggests  and  obliges  us  to 
entertain  this  mysterious  class  of  truths :  and  so  does  Natural 
Keligion ;  which  is  argument  to  those  who  admit  Natural 
Eeligion. 

But  indeed,  apart  from  reasoning,  do  not  the  plain  and 
broad  facts  of  the  case  appear  to  prove  what  is  here  maintained 
about  these  mysterious  truths,  and  efo'sprove  the  assertion 
that  these  truths  cannot  be  embraced  and  in  a  certain  sense 
apprehended  by  the  human  mind?  An  acute  person  may 
doubt,  upon  metaphysical  grounds,  whether  these  truths 
can  be  really  entertained,  whether  the  mind  can  have  really 
any  hold  of  them ;  but  the  fact  which  meets  us  every- 
where is  that  these  truths  do  not  only  lay  hold  of  the  human 


1 1 2  Mysterious  Truths. 

mind  in  some  way,  but  take  the  most  powerful  hold  of  it. 
It  is  a  matter  of  fact  that  these  doctrines  have  a  most  strong 
influence,  that  they  are  practically  very  impressive  ;  that  they 
appeal  to  the  feelings,  and  mould  the  minds  and  tempers  of 
mankind.  Considering  the  great  subtlety  of  philosophical 
reasoning,  and  its  proportionate  liability  to  error,  we  ought 
perhaps  reasonably  to  doubt  its  conclusions,  when  they  dis- 
agree with  very  strong  apparent  facts  the  other  way.  For  the 
supposition  that  mankind  in  general  are  so  mistaken  as  to 
their  own  ideas,  as  to  suppose  that  they  hold,  and  are  strongly 
impressed  by  certain  truths  with  respect  to  which  all  the  time 
their  minds  are  entirely  void,  is  at  any  rate  a  difficult  one. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  has  indeed  a  place  by  itself,  as 
concerned  with  a  truth  so  infinitely  remote  from  us  as  the 
nature  of  the  Deity ;  though  even  that  doctrine  was  not  main- 
tained in  the  early  Church  apart  from  a  moral  ground,  a  ground 
of  natural  feeling,  and  religious  instinct.  For  when  the 
Unity  of  the  Deity  was  objected  to  by  Pagan  opponents  of 
Christianity,  on  the  ground  that  it  involved  a  solitary  state, 
and  that  a  solitary  state  was  not  in  agreement  with  our  natural 
idea  of  happiness,  the  objection  was  admitted  as  a  natural  one, 
but  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was  adduced  in  answer  to  it ; 
according  to  which  the  Deity  was  not  represented  as  a  solitary 
Being,  but  as  having  a  kind  of  society  within  Himself.  And 
certainly,  whether  we  look  to  the  popular  or  the  esoteric  ideas 
of  the  Deity  in  the  ancient  world,  to  the  established  religions, 
or  to  the  theological  systems  of  philosophical  schools,  the 
notion  of  a  solitary  Deity  does  not  seem  to  have  approved 
itself  to  the  human  mind.  Those  who  asserted  in  opposition 
to  the  polytheism  of  the  mass,  the  Unity  of  God,  still  qualified 
it ;  and  it  may  safely  perhaps  be  said  that  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  had  some  kind  of  anticipation  of  it  in  ancient 
philosophy.  The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  thus  regarded,  is 
rather  a  concession  to  our  reasonable  and  intellectual  nature, 
than  a  stumbling-block  to  it.  JSTor  is  it  easy  to  understand 
how  persons  can  really  consider  it  philosophical  to  reduce  the 
Unity  of  the  Deity  to  such  a  Unity  as  we  understand  and 
attribute  to  human  persons. 


Mysterious  Truths.  1 1 3 

But  if  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  has  a  place  by  itself, 
those  doctrines  which  touch  our  own  condition,  the  mysterious 
truths  of  the  Incarnation,  Original  Sin,  and  the  Atonement,  do 
as  a  matter  of  fact  appeal  strongly  to  human  feeling ;  they 
are  truths  to  which  mankind  in  their  inmost  spirits  refer,  and 
which  actually  serve  for  the  rest,  the  food,  the  support  and 
consolation  of  human  souls.  Original  sin  is  felt  within  as  a 
mysterious  guilt,  coeval  with  our  first  reflection  upon  ourselves, 
an  unfathomable  sinfulness,  a  condition  of  being  which  makes 
it  absurd  for  us  to  adopt  any  but  the  humblest  ground,  and 
which  alters  our  relations  to,  and  our  mode  of  approaching  the 
Deity.  The  Incarnation  is  received  into  the  believer's  mind 
as  an  event  which  elevates  him,  and  brings  him  into  nearer 
relations  to  God.  He  reposes  in  the  Atonement  as  a  sove- 
reign remedy  and  satisfaction  for  sin,  a  mystery  of  rectifying 
love.  And  it  is  remarkable  that  these  doctrines  are  not  to  be 
found  in  Christianity  alone,  but,  in  some  or  other  form,  in 
most  of  the  religions  of  the  world.  The  idea  of  the  Deity 
assuming  the  nature  of  man,  and  visiting  the  inhabitants  of 
earth,  has  been  and  is  a  leading  one  in  the  history  of  religion  ; 
it  has  been  taken  in  by  the  human  mind  with  enthusiasm,  and 
grasped  with  tenacity,  as  an  idea  of  something  of  not  merely 
external  interest,  as  the  rise  of  any  extraordinary  man  might 
be,  but  of  something  which  truly  concerned  us,  and  brought  us 
into  a  new  and  high  relationship.  The  Eastern  and  the 
classical  religions  have  their  respective  modes  of  expressing 
this  idea,  and  ancient  poetry,  with  the  true  skill  which  poetry 
has  always  shown  in  detecting  the  deep  instincts  and  yearnings 
of  the  human  heart,  was  much  occupied  with  it ;  conscious 
that  such  a  theme  did  not  appeal  in  vain,  but  kindled,  while 
it  gratified  an  innate  longing,  a  noble  spiritual  ambition  in 
man  to  connect  himself  with  the  Divine.  And  the  same 
historical  appeal  to  the  actual  working  of  the  religious  instinct 
shows  us  human  nature  groaning  under  the  sense  of  a  necessary 
and  irremoveable  sinfulness  contracted  by  the  soul  on  its  very 
entrance  into  this  visible  world  ;  and  consoled  by  the  doctrine 
of  sacrifices,  that  is,  holding,  in  some  vague  or  corrupted  form, 
the  doctrine  of  Original  Sin,  and  the  Atonement.  These  doc- 

H 


1 1 4  Mysterious  Truths. 

trines,  then,  respond  to  some  instinct  in  the  human  heart,  some 
fundamental  wants.  And  that  instinct  which  they  respond 
to  in  its  turn  embraces,  apprehends,  and  practically  understands 
them.  The  religious  mind  enters  into,  and  unites  itself  with, 
these  truths  in  the  sense  of  religious  sympathy,  just  as  in 
science  the  mind  sees  truths  in  the  way  of  clear  perception.  To 
suppose  then  that  truths,  which  are  in  some  form  the  creed  of 
the  whole  human  race,  though  only  perfectly  revealed  in 
Christianity,  and  of  which  this  is  the  power,  effect,  and 
actual  working,  are  not  really  entertained  by  the  human  mind 
at  all,  and  cannot  be,  because  they  are  not  represented  by  dis- 
tinct ideas,  is  to  put  ourselves  in  opposition  to  all  the  apparent 
facts  of  the  case.  It  is  evident  that  there  is  some  mode  in 
which  the  human  mind  comes  into  contact  with  those  ideas,  or 
whatever  we  may  call  them,  which  these  doctrines  embody ; 
though  that  mode  may  not  be  scientifically  ascertainable,  or 
capable  of  expression  in  formal  language.  These  truths  and 
doctrines  show,  by  the  general  evidence  of  practical  influence 
and  effects,  that  they  are  taken  in  and  apprehended, — though 
not  with  full  intellectual  grasp,  still  with  a  real  solid  percep- 
tion of  some  kind,  by  the  human  mind ;  that  though  mysteries, 
they  are  in  some  sense  understood  ;  and  that  they  are  not 
words  only,  but  words  which  have  a  true  meaning,  and  which 
express  strong  and  real,  though  indistinct,  ideas. 

If  the  question  is  asked  then,  why  in  religion  we  build 
upon  what  we  cannot  understand,  why  we  make  incompre- 
hensible truths,  truths  of  which  we  can  form  no  accurate  or 
clear  idea,  the  very  foundation  of  religion,  the  answer  is,  that 
those  kind  of  truths  are  recognised  by  reason  ;  and  that  these 
are  the  only  truths  which  in  the  nature  of  the  case  admit  of 
a  place  in  religion.  Truths  which  are  clear  and  distinct,  that 
is,  the  truths  of  sense,  and  the  truths  of  mathematics,  do  not  in 
their  own  nature  admit  of  being  a  basis  of  religion.  The 
truths  which  are  at  the  bottom  of  all  religion  must  in  their 
own  nature  be  mysterious  and  indistinct  truths,  which  we  feel 
and  reach  after  rather  than  intellectually  apprehend.  Eeligion 
must  essentially  be  founded  upon  such  truths  as  these.  We 
do  not  pretend  that  religion  belongs  to  the  sphere  of  sense  or 


Mysterious  Truths.  1 1 5 

of  demonstration.  It  is,  rather,  of  its  very  essence  in  this 
present  state  of  being,  that  it  belongs  to  neither,  but  rests 
upon  the  ground  of  faith.  But  faith,  reasonable  faith,  does 
not  require  full  intellectual  apprehension ;  it  would  not  be 
faith  if  it  did;  it  requires  such  insight  only,  such  perception  of 
truth,  as  practically  influences  and  persuades  us.  The  very 
truths  that  lie  deepest  in  our  nature  are  just  of  this  character, 
they  are  not  philosophically  grasped,  but  they  are  taken  in 
with  an  indefinite  but  a  true  and  substantial  perception.  These 
are  the  truths  upon  which  all  our  belief  that  we  are  any- 
thing more  than  material  machines  depends  ;  upon  these  rests 
our  hope  for  the  future,  our  expectation  of  immortality ;  our 
spiritual  nature  rests  entirely  upon  this  kind  of  inward 
evidence,  and  unless  we  allow  the  witness  and  validity  of 
mysterious  truth,  we  cannot  even  say  that  we  have  souls. 


n6 


VIII.—'  OF  CHRIST  ALONE   WITHOUT 
A  REPLY  TO  PROFESSOR  TYNDALL.1 


PROFESSOR  TYNDALL,  in  his  remarks  upon  the  Bampton 
Lectures  of  1865  in  the  Fortnightly  Review,  confined  himselt 
generally  to  a  ground  of  science — a  ground  upon  which  he 
justly  felt  himself  strong,  and  in  connection  with  which  he  has 
won  so  high  a  name :  though  I  should  be  disposed  to  draw  a 
broad  distinction  between  the  most  intimate,  subtle,  and  even 
imaginative  insight  into  the  facts  of  science  and — what  the 
Professor  appears  to  claim — an  exclusive  right  to  the  inferences, 
whether  physical  or  metaphysical,  from  them.  Upon  one 
occasion,  however,  the  Professor  enters  upon  special  theological 
ground,  and  objects  to  miraculous  evidence  as  applying  to  the 
doctrine  of  our  Lord's  sinlessness  : — 

"  Mr.  Mozley  demands  a  miracle  as  a  certificate  of  character. 
He  will  accept  no  other  evidence  of  the  perfect  goodness  of  Christ. 
'  No  outward  life  or  conduct,'  he  says,  *  however  irreproachable, 
could  prove  his  perfect  sinlessness,  because  goodness  depends  upon 
the  inward  motive,  and  the  perfection  of  the  inward  motive  is  not 
proved  by  the  outward  act.'  But  surely  the  miracle  is  an  outward 
act,  and  to  pass  from  it  to  the  inner  motive  imposes  a  greater  strain 
upon  logic  than  that  involved  in  our  ordinary  methods  of  estimating 
men.  There  is  at  least  moral  congruity  between  the  outward  good- 
ness and  the  inner  life,  but  there  is  no  such  congruity  between  the 
miracle  and  the  life  within.  The  test  of  moral  goodness  laid  down 

1  Reprinted  from  the  Contemporary  Review,  April  1868. 
4  The  XVth  Article. 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin!  1 1  7 

by  Mr.  Mozley  is  not  the  test  of  John,  who  says,  '  He  that  doeth 
righteousness  is  righteous ; '  nor  is  it  the  test  of  Jesus,  '  By  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them :  do  men  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs 
of  thistles  1 '  But  it  is  the  test  of  another  :  '  If  thou  be  the  Son  of 
God,  command  that  these  stones  be  made  bread.'  .  .  . 

"Accepting  Mr.  Mozley's  test,  it  is  evident  that,  in  the  demon- 
stration of  moral  goodness,  the  quantity  of  the  miraculous  comes 
into  play.  Had  Christ,  for  example,  limited  himself  to  the  conver- 
sion of  water  into  wine,  He  would  have  fallen  short  of  the  perform- 
ance of  Jannes  and  Jambres,  for  it  is  a  smaller  thing  to  convert 
one  liquid  into  another  than  to  convert  a  dead  rod  into  a  living 
serpent.  But  Jannes  and  Jambres,  we  are  informed,  were  not  good. 
Hence,  if  Mr.  Mozley's  test  be  a  good  one,  a  point  must  exist  on 
the  one  side  of  which  miraculous  power  demonstrates  goodness, 
while  on  the  other  side  it  does  not.  How  is  this  '  point  of  contrary 
flexure '  to  be  determined  ?  It  must  lie  somewhere  between  the 
magicians  and  Moses  :  for  within  this  space  the  power  passed  from 
the  diabolical  to  the  Divine.  But  how  to  make  the  passage — how, 
out  of  a  purely  quantitative  difference  in  the  visible  manifestation 
of  power,  we  are  to  infer  a  total  inversion  of  quality — it  is  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  see.  .  .  .  Let  us  not  play  fast  and  loose  with 
the  miraculous  ;  either  it  is  a  demonstration  of  goodness  in  all  cases 
or  in  none." 


The  question  of  evidence  here  discussed  is  one  which,  from 
the  peculiar  nature  of  the  subject-matter  of  it,  I  approach  with 
some  reluctance.  As,  however,  only  a  bare  reference  to  the 
subject  was  made  in  the  Lecture,  and  as  the  whole  question  of 
miraculous  evidence,  as  applying  to  it,  is  so  erroneously  stated 
by  Professor  Tyndall,  I  will  take  this  opportunity  of  going 
somewhat  further  into  the  statement  of  the  Lecture,  though  at 
the  cost  of  treading  upon  ground  where  Christian  reverence  is 
properly  sensitive. 

Professor  Tyndall,  then,  here  assumes  that  if  miracles  act 
at  all  as  evidence  of  Christ's  sinlessness,  they  can  only  do  so  by 
reason  of  the  greater  quantity  of  the  miraculous  in  our  Lord's 
case.  And  upon  that  assumption  he  may  well  ask,  What  is 
the  quantity  which  decides  sinlessness  ?  Some  men  who  had 
a  certain  amount  of  this  power  were  bad  men.  "  How  is  this 


1 1 8  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin! 

point  of  contrary  flexure  to  be  determined  ?  How  out  of  a 
purely  quantitative  difference  are  we  to  infer  a  total  inversion 
of  quality  ? "  But  to  make  this  assumption  is  to  overlook  the 
fundamental  idea  of  a  miracle  as  evidence.  A  miracle,  regarded 
in  its  evidential  function,  is  only  a  guarantee  to  an  assertion. 
It  depends,  therefore,  on  what  the  assertion  is,  what  that  is 
which  the  miracle  proves.  Nobody  before  Christ  asserted 
himself  to  be  without  sin.  No  miraculous  powers,  therefore, 
which  were  exerted  before  Christ,  could  be  any  evidence  of  the 
sinlessness  of  those  who  exerted  them.  No  miracle  of  itself 
proves  anything;  no  quantity  of  the  miraculous  proves  any- 
thing; there  must  be  an  assertion  made  before  there  can  be 
anything  for  the  miracle  to  verify  or  guarantee.  Between  a 
miracle  and  a  conclusion  from  it  there  is  an  important  inter- 
vening term — namely,  an  asserted  doctrine  or  fact. 

Professor  Tyndall  says  :  "  There  is  at  least  moral  congruity 
between  the  outward  goodness  and  the  inner  life."  There  is. 
We  can  place  before  ourselves  in  imagination  a  certain  outward 
character  between  which  and  the  supposition  of  inward  sinless- 
ness,  assuming  the  latter  to  be  revealed  to  us,  there  would  be 
no  disagreement.  But  between  one  of  these  being  compatible 
with  the  other,  supposing  the  latter  to  be  known  and  revealed 
to  us,  and  one  of  these  being  sufficient  evidence  or  proof  of  the 
other,  there  is  a  vast,  an  immeasurable  interval.  Take,  for 
example,  our  Lord's  denunciatory  language  against  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees.  To  those  who  admit,  upon  the  evidence  which 
is  laid  before  them,  our  Lord's  sinlessness,  there  is  not  the 
slightest  discord  between  such  language  and  such  sinlessness ; 
but  common  reason  tells  us  that  had  we  to  judge  of  such 
language  without  the  assumption  of  our  Lord's  sinless  character, 
we  could  not  tell  but  that  some  element  of  imperfection,  some 
shade  of  prejudice,  some  passionate  excess,  might  enter  into 
such  censures, — such  taint  of  mortal  frailty  as  has  entered  into 
the  speeches  and  judgments  of  the  best  and  most  pure-minded 
human  reformers.  The  majesty,  the  integrity,  the  holiness  of 
our  Lord's  character  is  indeed  conspicuous  and  obvious  upon 
the  facts  of  the  case ;  but  when  we  attribute  absolute  sinless- 
ness  to  Him,  it  is  plain  that  by  the  laws  of  reason  we  must  be 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin'  1 19 

going  upon  some  further  evidence  than  that  which  is  contained 
in  His  outward  life  and  deportment. 

The  statement  in  the  Lecture  that  "  we  accept  our  Lord's 
perfect  goodness  upon  the  same  evidence  upon  which  we  admit 
the  rest  of  His  supernatural  character/'  assumes,  indeed,  that 
sinlessness  is  a  supernatural  characteristic ;  nor,  when  we 
examine  what  we  mean  by  supernatural,  can  we  avoid  giving 
this  designation  to  it.  We  do  not,  indeed,  assert  it  to  be  a 
Divine  characteristic,  or  that  it  necessitates  a  Divine  nature  in 
the  possessor ;  for  Christians  hold  a  past  or  paradisal  and  a 
future  or  heavenly  perfection  of  the  simple  man  ;  and  two  very 
opposite  schools  have  inserted  even  in  this  intermediate  state 
of  things,  and  in  the  actual  existing  condition  of  human  nature, 
a  sinless  mere  humanity :  Socinians,  that  of  a  simply  human 
Christ ;  a  Eoman  school,  that  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  But  though 
not  necessarily  a  divine,  it  is  a  supernatural  characteristic. 
Both  these  schools  connect  the  sinlessness  which  they  respec- 
tively attribute  to  two  human  personages  with  a  supernatural 
cause,  not  even  entertaining  the  idea  of  such  a  characteristic 
being  a  simply  natural  fact,  or  imagining  the  possibility  of 
mere  human  nature,  or  the  human  nature  of  experience,  produc- 
ing it.  The  Eacoyian  Catechism  asks  the  question, — "Was, 
then,  the  Lord  Jesus  a  mere  or  common  man  ?"  and  answers, 
"  By  no  means ; "  by  reason  of  "  his  supernatural  conception, 
his  resurrection,  his  being  sanctified  by  the  Father,  and 
separated  from  all  other  men,  being  distinguished  by  perfect 
holiness,"  etc.  All  divines  treat  our  Lord's  sinlessness  as  part 
of  His  supernatural  character. 

What,  indeed,  do  we  mean  by  supernatural  or  miraculous  ? 
We  mean  that  which  contradicts  universal  experience.  But  is 
the  field  of  experience  confined  to  material  nature  ?  Does  it 
not  include  just  as  truly,  and  just  as  strictly,  the  moral  nature 
of  man,  the  region  of  his  mind,  his  will,  his  conscience,  his 
moral  feeling,  his  moral  action  ?  Undoubtedly  it  does.  But 
what  does  universal  experience  assert  with  respect  to  this 
moral  nature,  but  that  it  never,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  does  produce 
a  perfect  moral  condition  of  the  man  ;  that  it  never  produces  any 
other  state  of  the  moral  being,  but  that  in  which,  together  with 


1 20  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin! 

whatever  good  he  may  be  conscious  of,  he  is  also  conscious  of 
evil — evil  which  he  has  done,  and  evil  which  exists  in  his 
motives  and  springs  of  action  ?  We  only  know  man  as  such  a 
being.  Different  accounts  and  rationales  are  given  of  this  fact 
by  different  religions  and  different  philosophies,  ancient  and 
modern.  The  doctrine  of  original  sin  is  the  Scriptural  account 
of  this  fact ;  Manichaeanisrn  is  another  account  of  it ;  Hegeli- 
anisni  is  another.  But  apart  from  any  rationales  of  this  fact, 
whether  false  ones  or  the  true  one,  we  are  now  concerned 
simply  and  solely  with  the  fact  itself.  Using  the  term  law,  in 
this  moral  sphere,  in  the  same  sense  in  which  we  use  it  in  the 
physical — viz.,  as  uniform  and  constant  fact — sin  is  the  law  of 
human  nature,  regarded  as  a  field  of  experience.  The  presence 
of  it  in  the  individual  is  as  much  the  law  of  human  nature  as 
gravitation  is  the  law  of  matter.  That  is  to  say,  it  is  always 
found  there  as  a  fact.  The  extent  to  which  it  is  perceived  by 
the  individual  in  himself  depends  upon  the  cultivation  of  his 
conscience,  but  of  its  existence  in  him  there  is  no  doubt ;  the 
absence  of  the  perception,  if  it  is  absent,  only  indicates  the 
firmer  root  of  the  disorder,  although  it  may  safely  be  asserted 
that  no  single  human  being,  however  savage  and  rude  his  con- 
dition, is  without  some  consciousness  of  it. 

Again,  no  theoretical  difference  in  the  mode  of  describing 
sin,  whether  as  positive,  or  as  a  negation  and  privation  of  good  ; 
no  difference  even  in  the  moral  estimate  of  sin,  whether  a 
latitudinarian  view  of  such  sin  as  is  universal,  which  represents 
it  as  a  less  serious  matter,  or  whether  a  profounder  or  more 
condemnatory  view  of  it  is  adopted ; — neither  of  these  differ- 
ences affects  at  all  the  universal  fact  of  sin.  The  most  lati- 
tudinarian doctrine  of  sin  admits  that  every  man  has  cause  for 
moral  regret ;  it  admits  a  struggle  in  every  human  heart  in 
which  the  will  has  often  given  way  to  temptation,  and  taken 
the  worse  side  instead  of  the  better ;  it  confesses  to  an  impedi- 
ment to  goodness  in  every  man,  which  has  been  yielded  to 
wrongly  or  sinfully.  Even  the  Pantheistic  Fatalist's  view  of 
sin  does  not  in  the  least  interfere  with  the  universality  of  sin. 
He  regards  good  and  evil,  indeed,  as  at  bottom  homogeneous 
facts,  the  growth  of  one  root,  one  great  impartial  discharge 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin.'  121 

from  the  machine  and  workshop  of  the  universe ;  but  though 
he  explains  away  sin  at  the  base,  he  admits  the  universal 
phenomenon ;  in  spite  of  his  own  explanation,  he  cannot  rid 
himself  of  the  sense  of  sin,  of  the  inward  confession  of  it,  of 
the  burden  of  self-reproach,  and  the  pains  of  conscience.  The 
poet  of  Pantheism  makes  it  a  matter  of  charge  against  the 
constitution  of  the  universe  that  he  is  subject  to  such  a  gall- 
ing yoke : — 

"  And  who  made  terror,  madness,  crime,  remorse  .  .  . 
And  self-contempt  bitterer  to  drink  than  blood."1 

But  in  the  very  complaint  at  the  injustice  of  it  he  admits  its 
inexorable  pressure.  In  relief  he  turns  accuser,  and  institutes 
the  contrast  between  man  and  nature.  Nature  is  beautiful  and 
tender,  majestic,  sweet,  elevating,  calm,  consoling ;  man  is  un4 
just,  grasping,  cruel,  mean,  proud;  a  hypocrite,  and  an  oppressor.  \ 
The  Pantheist  admits  all  the  sensations,  all  the  struggles,  all 
the  defeat  of  a  sinful  nature.  He  regards  the  moral  law  as  a  ( 
tyranny  indeed,  and  he  would  wildly  break  through  that 
tyranny ;  but  he  cannot  help  feeling  himself  condemned  if  he 
does  so.  His  theory  of  conscience  is  inexplicable  ;  he  sees  no 
promise  in  it,  no  augury,  no  anticipation  of  a  future  ;  he  sees  no 
meaning  in  it ;  it  gives  him  no  prospect  and  no  hope ;  but  he 
admits  it  as  a  blind  force  within  him,  and  he  expresses  that  force 
and  its  movements  with  a  strength  which  is  all  but  religious. 

This  is  so  sure  a  law  of  our  conscience,  indeed,  that  we 
count  upon  and  expect  a  sense  of  sin  and  moral  imperfection 
in  the  very  best  man,  with  the  same  absolute  certainty  with 
which  we  count  upon  the  return  of  the  equinoxes,  the  course 
of  the  sun  through  the  zodiac,  or  the  alternations  of  the  tides ; 
we  expect  from  him  the  consciousness  that  he  has  done  wrong 
actions,  and  that  he  has  the  element  of  evil  clinging  to  his 
motives  and  feelings.  Free  from  this  condemnatory  conscious- 
ness, we  cannot  conceive  ourselves  to  be  for  a  moment  without 
being  self-condemned  for  it ;  to  imagine  ourselves  without  it 
would  be  to  imagine  ourselves  different  beings  from  what  we 
are ;  to  escape  from  it  is  to  escape  from  the  consciousness  of 

1  Shelley's  PromeiJieus  Unbound,  Act  n.  Scene  4. 


122  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin? 

ourselves.  Consider  the  principle  of  impulse  in  human  nature, 
— how  serviceable,  how  necessary  it  is  to  produce  any  sterling 
virtue  in  man !  What  man  is  worth  anything  without  it  ? 
It  is  the '  root  of  all  action  ;  but,  if  so,  action  is  disordered  at 
the  root.  The  very  virtues  of  man  have  some  obliquity  or 
excess  in  them,  so  that  we  could  not  extract  the  evil  without 
eviscerating  the  good.  Whence  it  is  that  in  works  of  fiction 
we  reject  "too  perfect"  characters,  knowing  that  such  por- 
traiture is  a  delusion,  and  that  strong  virtue  cannot  grow  up 
in  man  without  some  erroneous  manifestation  of  his  nature 
being  produced  in  the  very  process.  We  want  the  fault,  then, 
for  the  sake  of  the  virtue ;  we  need  the  shadow  to  express  the 
brightness ;  we  interpret  perfection  as  a  blank.  And  hence, 
again,  the  rule  of  Scripture:  "Be  not  righteous  over  much;" 
which  is  directed,  of  course,  not  at  real  exactness  of  conduct, 
but  at  the  motive  which  sometimes  stimulates  an  outward 
exactness ;  when  men  make  it  apparent  that  they  really  have 
the  idea  that  they  can  and  will,  by  pursuing  conduct  into 
minutise,  attain  a  perfection  of  character  to  which  nothing  will 
be  wanting.  Consider  again  the  indomitable  internal  wildness 
of  the  human  mind,  its  irrepressible  volatility,  which  is  a 
constant  fount  of  moral  disorder;  when  it  is  hurried  off  by  a 
thought,  fastened  on  by  a  retrospect,  disturbed  at  a  mere 
glance  of  some  casual  obnoxious  image  that  flits  across  its 
horizon ;  and  the  involuntary  evil  excitation  is  present  before 
the  better  can  prevent  it.  This  wild  nature  is  a  law  of  the 
mind,  because  there  is  no  perfect  cure  for  it,  no  discipline 
which  quite  corrects  it. 

It  is  thus  the  very  law  of  the  human  conscience  that  the 
better  a  man  is,  the  more  alive  he  becomes  to  the  fact  of  evil 
in  his  actions  and  motives ;  and  a  sense  of  sin  is  part  of  the 
morality  of  human  nature.  The  very  normal  effect  of  good- 
ness in  the  human  heart  is  the  revelation  of  evil.  Can  any 
apparent  amount  of  goodness,  any  phenomenal  sublimity  of 
character  that  we  can  picture  to  ourselves,  cancel  this  law  ? 
Let  us  make  the  supposition  of  a  man  exhibiting  the  richest 
and  most  splendid  assemblage  of  virtues,  the  utmost  purity  of 
life,  largeness  of  heart,  active  zeal,  love  for  others;  let  us 


*  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin'  1 23 

suppose  the  loftiest  bearing,  the  most  calm  and  imposing 
wisdom,  the  most  benevolent  services  to  mankind ;  but  let  us 
suppose  also  this  man  asserting  that  he  was  without  the  sense 
of  sin.  How  should  we  regard  such  a  character — I  mean  on 
simply  human  principles  ?  Could  we  imagine  it  for  an  instant 
as  real,  we  could  not  contemplate  it  without  consternation. 
Such  a  man  would  be  an  enigma,  and  a  portent  to  us ;  wholly 
unintelligible,  but  not  the  less  condemned  by  the  conscience 
of  humanity ;  a  rebel  against  the  first  law  which  is  stamped 
on  human  hearts,  and  an  outcast  self-excommunicated  from 
the  society  and  fellowship  of  the  righteous.  Let  the  void 
within  be  covered  by  ever  so  luxuriant  a  growth  of  out- 
ward virtue,  we  could  not  believe  in  the  reality  of  such  a  man's 
goodness ;  his  character  could  only  appal ;  and  the  one  thing 
wanting  would  destroy  the  most  majestic  external  moral  fabric. 
It  would  be  converted  into  an  unsubstantial  shadow ;  and  the 
nobler  the  assemblage  of  virtues,  the  more  portentous  would  be 
the  illusion  and  deception  of  the  structure. 

It  may  be  asked,  indeed,  is  there  not  a  type  of  goodness, 
different  from  and  higher  than  any  exhibited  in  human  history, 
which  is  capable  of  being  manifested  to  human  eyes,  and  which 
would  of  itself  prove  sinlessness  ?  But  the  reply  to  such  a 
question  is,  that  however  high  the  type  of  goodness  in  the 
person  himself,  it  must  still  manifest  itself  to  those  without  by 
means  of  such  expressions  and  modes  of  action  as  would  be  to 
the  human  eye  common  to  a  perfect  and  to  the  highest  imper- 
fect goodness.  How,  for  example,  could  strong  indignation  be 
the  evidence  of  its  own  perfection,  when  the  same  expression 
would  suit  it  and  also  a  high  imperfection  ?  The  obstruction 
to  the  proof  of  sinlessness  by  outward  life  is  thus  the  essential 
invisibility  of  inward  motives ;  and  to  this  we  must  add  the 
inexorable  law  of  human  goodness,  in  consequence  of  which 
the  higher  the  outward  life  of  any  one,  the  more  we  count  upon 
the  sense  of  sin  in  that  person. 

If  exception  is  taken  at  regarding  anything  so  impalpable, 
so  inaccessible,  so  mysterious  as  right  and  wrong  are  in  their 
own  nature,  as  holding  a  parallel  position  to  physical  fact,  the 
reply  is  that  we  are  not  here  considering  right  and  wrong  in 


1 24  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin.' 

their  own  nature,  but  only  as  fixed  feelings  or  impressions  of 
the  human  mind.  However  mystical,  transcendental,  and 
beyond  analysis  right  and  wrong  may  be  in  themselves,  that 
they  exist  as  feelings  and  impressions  of  the  human  mind,  and 
that  the  impression  of  having  done  wrong  is  universal  in  the 
human  mind,  is  a  plain  and  palpable  fact.  The  pains  of 
conscience  are  sensible  inward  phenomena,  they  are  special 
known  feelings,  quite  different  from  any  other. 

To  return,  then,  to  the  point  from  which  we  started :  if  the 
presence  of  sin  is  an  universal  fact  or  law  of  our  moral  nature, 
regarded  as  a  field  of  experience,  it  inevitably  follows  that  the 
absence  of  it  is  a  contradiction  to  law ;  that  is  to  say,  that  it 
is  of  the  nature  of  a  miraculous  or  supernatural  fact.  To  be 
without  moral  regrets,  without  sense  of  shortcoming ;  for  the 
whole  root  of  inordinateness  and  dissatisfaction  to  be  extracted 
from  the  soul,  to  be  an  ideal  to  yourself,  to  possess  that  which 
the  more  it  has  been  pursued  the  more  has  fled  all  human 
grasp — the  Crown  of  a  Supreme  Kighteous  Self-approval — 
suppose  this,  and  you  certainly  suppose  a  marvel.  It  is  an 
unknown  state  of  mind,  totally  unlike  experience ;  an  anoma- 
lous insulation  in  the  self-convicting  conscience  of  humanity. 
That  pervading  subtle  ingredient  of  life — how  are  we  to 
imagine  the  total  clearance  of  it  out  of  the  human  interior ; 
the  removal  of  that  part  of  man's  self,  the  ever-accompanying 
shadow,  the  unfavourable  reflection  upon  himself?  Christ  was 
Satisfied  with  Himself.  That  is,  He  witnessed  to  Himself  that 
His  conscience  was  what  no  human  conscience  had  ever  been ; 
that  is,  He  witnessed  to  a  contradiction  to  a  universal  law  of 
experience,  or  to  a  supernatural  fact.  When  we  realise  under 
what  conditions  we  ourselves  and  the  whole  human  race  are 
working  out  the  problem  of  our  moral  being ;  and  that  these 
conditions  as  uniformly  in  fact  involve  in  our  case  the  con- 
sciousness of  sin  as  the  law  of  any  species  in  nature  involves 
any  characteristic  of  that  species ;  when  we  embrace,  in  short, 
what  is  the  experimental  character  of  the  moral  struggle  of 
life  in  any  human  being  ;  and  then  turn  to  that  fulfilment  of 
an  ideal,  that  absolute  purity,  that  immunity  of  an  inward 
life  from  all  mixture  and  alloy, — we  must  see  that  all  that 


*  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin'  125 

extraordinariness,  that  strangeness  of  type,  that  difficulty  of 
reception,  attaches  to  the  sinless  state  that  attaches  to  a 
miracle ;  that  it  has  that,  at  first  sight,  unreality,  incredibleness, 
effect  of  astonishing,  which  the  violation  of  a  law  of  physical 
nature  has ;  and  that  it  is  in  short  a  miracle,  only  a  miracle 
of  the  inner  world  instead  of  the  outer. 

Christ's  sinlessness  did  not  indeed  imply  a  freedom  from 
the  burden  of  resisting  evil, — of  maintaining  a  contest.  But  the 
law  of  sin  in  human  nature  is  not  the  contest  with  evil,  but 
the  failure  more  or  less  under  the  contest.  It  is  this  which 
constitutes  the  subject  of  that  self-reproach  under  which  all 
human  nature  labours  :  the  immunity  from  this  was  immunity 
from  a  law  of  human  nature,  a  universal  characteristic  of  it. 

Let  the  test  of  the  historical  imagination, — I  mean  the 
principle  of  deciding  at  once  against  the  truth  of  facts,  if,  when 
we  realise  what  they  are,  we  start  at  the  unlikeness  to,  the 
opposition  to  the  experimental  type, — let  this  test,  which  has 
been  applied  to  physical  miracles,  be  applied  to  the  sinlessness 
of  Christ,  and  does  it  meet  that  test  ?  Is  there  anything  more 
certain,  more  sensible,  more  palpable  than  this  universal  fact 
/of  evil,  this  imperfect  struggle  with  evil  ?  Is  any  geographical 
fact,  any  historical  fact,  more  absolutely  taken  for  granted? 
'is  there  anything  imaginable  wanting  to  the  constancy  of 
experience,  to  the  rigorousness  of  fact  here,  that  out  of  this 
vast  mill  of  probation  which  the  world  is,  all  goodness  comes 
forth  mixed  with  the  "ineradicable  taint"? — that  no  human 
life  is  clear  ? — that  if  any  one  said  his  was,  we  should  not  for 
an  instant  believe  him  ?  With  this  overpowering  stamp,  then, 
of  the  actual,  the  real,  upon  his  mind,  with  this  strength  of  assur- 
ance from  the  world  of  fact,  let  any  one  turn  to  the  thought  of  the 
One  Sinless  Conscience,  that  marvellous  interior  of  One  Man. 
Does  not  that  paradisal  insulation  in  humanity,  the  section  of 
the  heavenly  state  crossing  with  the  earthly,  sinlessness  co- 
existing with  pain  and  resistance,  challenge  the  same  wonder, 
the  same  astonishment,  the  same  instinctive  questions — Is  it 
real  ?  Is  it  possible  ? — that  a  physical  interruption  of  the  order 
of  nature  does  ?  Does  it  not  excite  the  same  antagonistic  in- 
stinct of  custom,  the  same  jar  with  the  experimental  touchstone 


126  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin' 

of  truth  ?  Has  the  one  fact  less  of  the,  at  first  sight,  incre- 
dibility than  the  other  ?  If  the  resurrection  of  Christ  was 
an  idea,  was  the  sinlessness  a  fact  ?  The  same  antipathy  of 
treason,  or  mechanical  impression,  to  strange,  unlike,  un- 
known types,  rejects  both ;  the  same  cultivation  of  true  reason 
retains  both. 

What  I  said,  then,  in  the  Lecture  to  which  Professor  Tyndall 
refers,  was,  that  sinlessness  being  an  internal  and  supernatural 
characteristic  of  our  Lord,  of  which  His  outward  life,  sublime 
as  that  was,  could  not  in  the  nature  of  the  case  be  adequate 
proof,  miracles  were  a  guarantee  to  the  truth  of  that  assertion 
of  our  Lord  respecting  Himself,  in  the  same  way  in  which  they 
were  a  guarantee  to  the  rest  of  His  supernatural  character. 
Not  that  miracles  could  prove  such  an  assertion  without  other 
conditions  co-operating ;  but  that  they  had  an  evidential  force 
with  those  other  conditions  concurring.  And  certainly  what- 
ever theoretical  difficulties  may  be  raised  with  respect  to  the 
mode  in  which  miracles  operate  as  evidence  of  that  of  which 
they  are  alleged  to  be  evidence,  practically  speaking,  to  say 
that  the  whole  of  the  miraculous  circumstances  of  Christ's  life, 
supposed  to  be  true,  would  operate  in  no  way  as  evidence  of 
the  truth  of  His  assertion  of  His  own  sinlessness,  would  be 
to  contradict  the  common  reason  of  mankind. 

There  are  two  corollaries  which  attach  so  naturally  and 
unavoidably  to  this  statement  of  the  supernaturalness  of  Christ's 
sinlessness,  that  they  should  not  be  omitted. 

1.  The  religious  and  philosophical  position  taken  by  the 
late  Mr.  Baden  Powell  was,  that  the  denial  of  supernatural 
facts  does  not  interfere  with  the  doctrines  or  spiritual  truths 
of  Revelation.     But  here  is  a  doctrine  or  spiritual  truth,  an 
essential  part  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement,  which  such  a 
denial  does  touch  immediately.     The  moral  perfection  of  a 
future  state  is  no  exception  to  this  present  order  of  nature 
because  it  is  not  inserted  in  it ;  but  if  the  fact  of  a  sinless 
Person  is  inserted  in  this  order  of  nature,  it  is  an  exception  to 
it,  or  supernatural,  and  is  therefore  shut  out  by  Mr.  Baden 
Powell's  barrier. 

2.  It  appears  to  be  the  notion  of  many — indeed,  I  may  call 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin'  1 2  7 

it  a  tendency  of  thought  in  the  present  day — to  accept  the 
Gospel  moral  portrait  of  Christ,  omitting  His  supernatural 
character.  Such  a  ground  must  be  distinguished  from  the 
liberty  which  Christian  writers  claim,  to  portray  our  Lord's 
humanity,  as  for  the  time  contemplated  apart  from  His  divinity. 
The  extent  to  which  this  may  be  done,  the  Incarnation  being 
a  complex  doctrine,  made  up  of  two  great  truths,  is  what  may 
be  called  an  administrative  question  in  theology,  not  capable 
of  any  rigid  definition.  The  notion,  however,  to  which  I  am 
referring  is,  that  the  Gospel  moral  portrait  of  Christ  can  be 
fully  and  completely  preserved,  although  permanently  separated 
from  His  supernatural  character. 

What  I  observe,  then,  is  that  upon  this  basis  of  omission 
of  the  supernatural  the  sinless  character  of  our  Lord  must 
be  omitted,  as  well  as  the  physical  supernatural  attaching  to 
Him.  A  person  might  at  first  sight  suppose  that  this  basis 
of  omission  would  only  apply  to  the  body  of  outward  mir- 
acles which  glorified  His  birth  and  death,  and  accompanied 
His  ministry ;  but,  upon  reflection,  he  must  see  that  upon  this 
basis  he  must  also  omit  another  asserted  characteristic  of 
Christ.  For  what  are  the  contents  of  the  supernatural?  Do 
the  physical  miracles,  do  these  and  the  mediatorial  and  atoning 
office  of  Christ  together,  constitute  the  whole  of  the  super- 
natural ?  No :  the  sinlessness  is  supernatural.  Upon  the 
basis,  then,  of  the  omission  of  the  supernatural,  the  sinlessness 
must  be  omitted. 

But  does  the  omission  of  the  sinlessness  make  no  difference 
in  the  moral  portrait  of  our  Lord  ?  That  would  be  a  strange 
thing  to  say.  Consider,  the  moral  character  of  Christ  was  not 
a  mere  exhibition  or  procession  of  actions ;  it  was  not  a  mere 
succession  of  abstract  virtues ;  it  was  not  a  mere  external  fabric 
of  virtue.  There  was  behind  all  this  manifestation  of  action  a 
Person.  What  was  the  moral  condition  of  that  Person  ?  It 
must  make  a  difference ;  it  must  make  a  fundamental  differ- 
ence in  the  moral  portrait  which  we  have  in  our  minds  of  the 
Person  whether  He  was  with  or  without  the  consciousness  of 
sin. 

This  is  no  metaphysical  distinction,  it  must  be  seen ;  no 


128  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin' 

difference  which  can  be  set  aside  as  belonging  to  the  sphere  of 
unintelligible  dogma  ;  it  is  the  difference  of  a  plain  and  palpable 
matter  of  fact.  As  I  have  said,  whatever  be  the  impenetrable- 
ness  of  the  distinction  of  right  and  wrong  in  itself,  the  feelings, 
the  impressions,  the  consciousness  in  human  nature  with  regard 
to  it  are  the  most  sensible  facts  possible  ;  they  are  actual  men- 
tal sensations ;  everybody  knows  what  they  are  ;  all  the  motions 
and  workings  of  these  feelings  are  known ;  they  are  assumed 
in  all  conversation,  in  all  history  and  biography.  The  alter- 
native here,  then,  is  between  there  having  been  the  absence  in 
that  Person  of  a  sensible  known  consciousness  such  as  we  all 
understand  to  our  cost,  or  the  presence  of  it  in  Him, — no 
speculative  difference.  The  alternative  lies  between  a  sinless 
goodness,  or  (if  the  sinlessness  is  omitted)  a  mixed  and 
alloyed  goodness — the  goodness  of  human  experience.  What  is 
the  universal  portrait  of  man  good  with  the  goodness  of  experi- 
ence ?  This  is  his  portrait :  a  man  who  has  moral  regrets,  who 
blames  himself,  who  does  not  rise  up  to  his  own  ideal,  who  did 
something  yesterday,  this  hour,  which  fell  short  of  a  standard 
within  him,  who  is  not  satisfied  with  himself.  Was  Christ — the 
argument  compels  me  to  ask  the  question — such  a  man?  Unless 
sinlessness  is  attributed  to  Him,  the  only  alternative,  the  only 
possible  alternative,  is,  that  He  was.  Of  all  goodness  which  is 
not  exceptional,  of  all  the  goodness  of  experience,  this  unfavour- 
able consciousness  is  the  uniform,  the  infallible,  the  inexorable 
law :  its  attendance  is  as  certain  as  the  most  certain  physical 
conjunction  in  nature ;  it  is  as  certain  as  the  succession  of  the 
seasons,  as  the  law  of  life  and  death,  as  the  reproduction  of 
animal  and  vegetable  types  ;  and  we  should  as  soon  expect  the 
earth  to  roll  back  upon  its  axis  as  look  for  a  contradiction  to 
this  law  in  any  human  being.  Upon  the  principle,  therefore,  of 
omission  of  the  supernatural  characteristics  of  Christ,  it  follows 
inevitably  not  only  that  He  ceases  to  be  God,  not  only  that  He 
ceases  to  be  mediator  between  man  and  God,  not  only  that  He 
becomes  only  man,  but  that  He  becomes  sinful  man.  Sin  must 
enter  with  the  withdrawal  of  sinlessness,  and  sinlessness  must 
be  withdrawn  with  the  withdrawal  of  the  supernatural.  But 
this  is  a  fundamental  subversion  of  the  moral  portrait. 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin  '  129 

For — and  it  is  necessary  to  state  this  distinctly,  it  is  by  no 
means  a  superfluous  thing  to  state,  though  it  is  a  truism — there 
is  no  medium  between  "  no  sin  "  in  a  man  and  sin.  We  are 
apt  to  look  upon  the  outside  of  goodness  and  to  forget  the  in- 
side, the  human  interior  out  of  which  it  proceeds,  and  the 
conditions  which  accompanied  it  in  the  actual  inward  person 
himself.  So  suppose  a  generous  or  a  condescending  unbeliever 
drawing,  as  Eousseau  and  several  have  done,  a  portrait  of  Christ, 
and  describing  His  course  here ;  how  it  was  characterised  by 
consummate  benevolence,  patience,  moral  dignity,  etc.  Would 
he  attribute  to  Christ  a  sinless  character  because  he  thus  de- 
scribed Him  ?  No.  Yet  neither  on  the  other  hand  would,  he 
contemplate  Him  as  having  moral  evil.  He  would  stop  short 
at  the  outside  of  his  picture.  What  he  has  in  his  mind  is  a 
personification,  an  assemblage  of  various  virtues,  a  spectacle,  a 
superficies.  But  was  not  the  centre  of  that  whole  outward 
erection  of  virtue  a  real  Person  ?  And  was  there  not  a  real 
interior  of  that  Person  ?  There  was  ;  and  we  know  with  cer- 
tainty what  that  conscious  interior,  if  it  was  not  sinless,  was  : 
that  it  was  the  sphere  of  moral  regret,  sense  of  shortcoming, 
sense  of  failure,  etc.  Here,  then,  is  a  subversion  of  the  moral 
portrait.  A  person  might  say,  indeed,  I  do  not  know  what 
this  mystical  sinlessness  is ;  I  cannot  form  to  myself  a  clear 
conception  of  it ;  therefore  the  absence  of  it  is  to  me  no  absence 
of  a  positive  intellectually  apprehended  part  of  the  portrait. 
But  to  such  a  person  I  would  say,  Stop.  Even  supposing — for 
I  need  not  enter  into  that  question  here — that  you  do  not  know 
intellectually  what  sinlessness  is,  you  know  the  alternative 
very  well  which  exists  in  man,  if  he  is  not  sinless.  You  know 
that  alternative  intellectually ;  you  know  it  by  experience ; 
you  know  it  by  the  most  sensible  and  palpable  experience. 
This  alternative  is  the  difference  of  a  broad  fact ;  because  there 
can  be  no  neutral  state  :  if  not  sinless,  the  man  must  have  the 
consciousness  of  sin  and  its  concomitants. 

It  is  the  tendency  of  the  historical  school  among  us  to 
exhibit  our  Lord  as  a  life  without  a  Personality.  They  describe 
a  great  moral  spectacle,  a  great  exhibition  of  the  virtues,  a  great 
procession  of  the  highest  attributes  of  humanity.  But  we  want 

I 


1 30  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin' 

a  centre  of  all  this  fabric  and  edifice  of  high  action — an  Agent, 
a  Person,  the  Being  who  has  inward  life,  soul,  consciousness, 
conscience.  This  is  not  included  in  the  description  ;  and  yet 
to  exclude  it  is  to  transgress  against  the  historical  principle. 
That  inward  Man,  the  conscience  of  that  Man,  was  as  much  a 
fact  as  His  outward  -life.  Was  it  a  sinless  conscience,  or — I 
am  obliged  argumentatively  to  state  the  alternative — had  it  a 
history  of  self-reproach  and  dissatisfaction?  Its  condition 
must  have  been  either  the  one  or  the  other ;  either  the  former, 
which  is  supernatural,  or  the  latter,  which  is  a  confession  of 
sin.  The  alternative  between  a  Supernatural  Christ  and  a  sin- 
conscious  Christ  cannot  really  be  avoided ;  yet  the  historical 
school  stops  short  of  this  point,  does  not  approach  it,  and  draws 
the  moral  portrait  of  Christ  without  the  question  being  settled. 
It  avoids  the  inward  Personality,  and  confines  itself  to  mani- 
festations ;  yet  the  centre  of  this  whole  outward  moral  erection 
was  not  a  void  or  cavity,  like  the  Christ  of  the  Docetse. 

The  moral  estimate  even  of  the  manifestations  must  be 
deeply  affected  by  the  rank  of  the  person  from  whom  they 
proceed.  Were  the  benevolent,  the  compassionate  manifesta- 
tions, the  condescensions  of  a  Great  One,  a  Superior,  to  frail, 
weak,  and  miserable  man;  or  did  they  represent  the  active 
benevolence  of  a  philanthropist  to  his  fellows  ?  Upon  the 
latter  supposition  there  would  be  an  immediate  difference  in  the 
moral  impression  which  those  actions  produce.  They  would 
still  be  good,  but  their  goodness  would  be  different.  There 
would  be  a  fall  in  the  type ;  a  solemnity,  a  beauty,  a  depth  of 
moral  interest  would  have  vanished ;  they  would  have  ceased 
to  be  what  they  are.  Any  common  poor  man  would  be  sensible 
of  the  alteration,  as  he  read  the  Gospels.  The  acts  of  mercy 
and  sympathy  as  they  come  upon  him  make  a  peculiar  moral 
impression,  and  embody  a  higher  moral  type  in  his  eyes, 
in  consequence  of  something  in  their  background,  in  their 
basis ;  that  they  come  from  an  Agent  who  is  lifted  up  in  the 
nature  of  His  goodness  above  mankind, — from  an  exalted 
Personage.  The  love  which  descends  from  a  mysterious  height 
is  the  greater  and  profounder  love ;  because  it  is  connected 
with  the  supernatural,  it  is  higher  morally.  The  moral  type 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin.  1 3 1 

gains  from  the  loftiness  of  the  Agent,  and  the  actions  rise  with 
their  fountain-head.  They  are  the  acts  of  the  Unknown  One 
— unknown,  though  known  as  well ;  the  unknown  moral  state 
from  which  they  come  gives  an  untold  weight  and  meaning  to 
them.  The  philanthropy  in  our  Lord's  actions,  supposed  to 
proceed  from  a  philanthropist  only,  would  fall  flat  upon  the 
mind. 

The  omission  of  the  supernatural,  therefore,  would  be  the 
subversion  of  the  moral  portrait  too,  as  being  the  omission  of 
the  inward  sinlessness.  But,  again,  upon  this  basis  not  only  is 
the  great  internal  characteristic  of  Christ  abstracted,  but  there 
is  the  total  demolition  of  an  actual,  visible,  outward  portrait ; 
for  if  the  sinlessness  is  omitted,  the  next  step  is  inevitable — 
namely,  that  the  assumption  of  it  must  be  omitted  too.  But 
although  the  characteristic  itself  is  internal  and  supernatural — 
that  He  professed  to  be  sinless,  that  He  made  this  pretension, 
that  He  used  this  language,  is  part  of  the  visible  and  external 
character,  as  portrayed  in  the  Gospels.  The  assumption  per- 
vades His  acts  and  speech;  it  is  as  much  a  portion  of  the 
Gospel  biography  as  His  benevolence,  His  companion,  His 
purity,  His  courage,  His  resignation  ;  as  much  as  His  judging 
the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  instructing  the  poor,  suffering  for 
righteousness'  sake,  witnessing  to  the  truth,  and  delivering 
Himself  to  death  in  behalf  of  His  mission.  What  a  man 
thinks  or  says  of  himself,  his  view  of  himself,  his  estimate  of 
himself,  is  a  most  important  characteristic  of  the  man,  in  secular 
biography.  The  writers  of  the  life  of  Christ  have  transmitted, 
as  an  essential  portion  of  Him,  this  great  act  of  self-assertion, 
this  tone  about  Himself,  which  was  quite  unique,  and  to  which 
there  was  no  approach  in  human  history.  Nor  can  this 
characteristic  be  removed  without  a  complete  destruction  of 
the  whole  portrait,  and  the  substitution  of  another  Christ  for 
the  Christ  of  the  Gospels ;  whose  profound  statement  respect- 
ing Himself  reappears  in  the  Epistles,  as  believed  and  bowed 
to  by  the  Apostles,  and  made  the  foundation  of  a  new  message 
to  mankind. 

Let  us  place  side  by  side  this  Character  and  another.     In 
St.  Paul  we  have  a  participation  in  the  lot  of  humanity,  an 


132  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin.1 

experience  of  a  struggle,  a  sense  of  disappointment  and  short- 
coming, a  sense  of  weakness  joined  to  a  triumphant  sense  of 
strength ;  we  have  the  beauty  and  the  interest  of  the  simply 
human  character.  He  is  akin  to  that  "  whole  creation  which 
groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  together  until  now," — to  that 
nature  which  says,  "  to  will  is  present  with  me,  but  how  to 
perform  that  which  is  good,  I  know  not."  This  is  the  goodness 
proper  to  man.  The  sense  of  weakness,  the  humility  of  con- 
fession, the  self-condemning  type,  is  a  fundamental  requisite 
for  man's  goodness;  without  it  no  apparent  grandeur  or 
sublimity  can  satisfy  us.  No  strength  of  will,  no  greatness, 
no  calmness  of  the  philosopher,  no  zeal  of  the  philanthropist, 
without  this,  can  gain  our  moral  affections.  It  is  impossible 
to  love  a  man  because  he  is  majestic,  because  he  is  wise, 
because  he  is  calm,  because  he  is  active,  because,  even,  he  is 
philanthropical.  We  demand  from  him  first  a  participation 
in  the  lot  of  humanity,  a  fellowship  with  it  in  confession  of 
sin  and  weakness — not  the  mere  sympathy  of  a  human  bene- 
volence upon  a  high  condescending  ground  with  humanity ; — 
that  will  not  do  ;  that  is  not  enough  ;  we  must  have  confession. 
St.  Paul  makes  this  confession,  and  acknowledges  fellowship 
with  weakness  and  frailty.  Now  take  the  other  Character. 
There  stands  One,  erect  and  unconfounded  before  the  throne  of 
God.  He  casts  off  from  Himself  that  whole  fabric  of  language 
toward  God  which  the  sense  of  sin  had  formed;  He  throws  off 
for  Himself  the  whole  penitential  type.  His  humility  is  the 
humility  of  condescension,  of  magnanimity,  of  patience,  of 
long-suffering  innocence,  of  dignity  undisturbed  by  mockery 
and  insult ;  it  is  the  humility  of  good  desert ;  it  is  not  the 
humility  of  imperfection  and  frailty  which  is  the  characteristic 
humility  of  man.  The  normal  effect  of  sanctity  is  reversed, 
and  it  reveals  in  Him  no  sin — righteousness  only;  and  that 
while  His  own  moral  criterion  searched  the  inmost  corners  of 
the  heart.  A  man  may  fulfil  to  the  letter  an  outward  cere- 
monial code ;  but  Christ's  code  was,  "  Ye  have  heard  it  said, 
Thou  shalt  not  kill ;  but  I  say  unto  you,"  etc. ;  "  Ye  have  heard 
it  said,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  and  hate  thine  enemy ; 
but  I  say  unto  you,"  etc.  The  more  inward  the  touchstone, 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin'  133 

the  greater  enigma  the  assumption  of  perfectly  standing  it ;  the 
more  astounding  the  profession  that  the  law  was  not  death 
but  life  to  Him,  because  He  fulfilled  it  wholly.  Yet  this  Man 
preached  confession  of  sins ;  He  preached  it  as  the  very  criterion 
of  an  accepted  state,  and  denounced  self -justification  as  the 
condemnation  of  man.  The  publican  was  justified,  because 
he  smote  upon  his  breast  and  owned  himself  a  sinner;  the 
Pharisee  was  condemned,  because  he  thanked  God  he  was  not 
like  that  sinner.  The  very  form  of  prayer  which  he  put  forth 
as  the  prayer  of  all  mankind  involved  confession  of  sin.  But 
the  same  Man  who  laid  down  the  law  of  self-abasement  for 
sin  for  every  other  human  being  disowned  it  for  Himself;  He 
condemned  the  Pharisee,  and  He  did  what  the  Pharisee  did, 
justify  Himself;  He  praised  the  publican,  and  declined  to  do 
what  the  publican  did,  condemn  Himself;  His  prayer  made  all 
mankind  sue  for  pardon,  but  He  Himself  did  not  pray  to  be 
forgiven.  He  said  to  others,  "Kepent;"  but  He  Himself 
explained  why  He  submitted  to  the  baptism  of  repentance. 
That  He  disowned  the  confession  of  sin  for  Himself  is  the 
fact  it  is,  because  the  confession  of  it  in  others  constituted 
them  the  first  objects  of  His  love.  There  may  have  been 
philosophical  philanthropists  who  did  not  bow  their  necks  to 
the  penitential  yoke ;  but  then  they  were  men  who  did  not 
accept  the  penitential  type — who  did  not  admit  the  truth  of 
that  moral  standard  which  imposes  it — whose  idea  of  morals 
superseded  it  both  for  themselves  and  others — who  thought  it 
imbecile  and  weak,  and  below  the  dignity  of  human  nature. 
But  Christ's  sympathy  was  with  the  penitential  type  solely ; 
He  abhorred  the  righteous  in  their  own  sight,  He  loved  those 
to  whom  much  was  forgiven. 

Now  it  is  evident  that  these  two  characters  cannot  both  be 
right,  except  upon  the  assumption  of  some  entire  difference  in 
the  basement  or  pedestal  upon  which  each  stands.  They  are 
opposed  in  fundamental  type.  If  both  characters  are  attributed 
then  to  the  same  ordinary  humanity,  if  one  is  right  the  other 
is  wrong.  It  might  appear  at  first  sight  that  a  criticism  of  a 
character  upon  one  basis  was  perilously  near  to  a  criticism  of 
it  upon  another;  but  in  truth  no  two  acts  of  criticism  are 


134  '  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin! 

wider  apart ;  we  are  never  further  off  from  a  character  upon 
its  own  appropriate  basis  than  when  we  regard  it  upon  another 
and  improper  one.  We  have  never  a  more  different  character 
than  when  we  have  the  same  pretensions  with  different  rights. 
The  latter  of  these  two  characters  is  plainly  enormous  and 
monstrous,  except  upon  the  supposition  of  a  humanity  morally 
higher  than  all  experience, — or  supernatural. 

But  this  is  the  claim  and  the  assumption  of  the  Christ  of 
the  Gospels ;  it  is  the  basis  of  the  whole  moral  portraiture  in 
the  Gospels.  This  character  has  never  indeed  from  the  first 
stood  but  upon  one  foundation ;  the  portrait  has  never,  from 
the  time  it  was  first  drawn,  belonged  to  any  other  than  a 
supernatural  personage,  it  is  given  as  the  character  of  such  a 
Being ;  that  is  its  explanation ;  that  is  historically  its  connection. 
Eemoved  from  this  basis,  it  does  not  correspond  to  our  moral 
sense,  but  this  is  its  basis.  The  portrait  that  was  drawn  as  a 
contrast  to  human  saintly  characters  cannot  be  proper  as  a 
human  saintly  character ;  but  then  it  was  drawn  as  a  contrast. 
Scripture  is  a  succession  of  saintly  biographies  all  upon  one  type, 
the  penitential.  By  a  sudden  transition  there  springs  up  one 
solitary  instance  of  a  completely  opposite  type,  which  vanishes, 
and  never  reappears.  But  the  solitary  and  insulated  unpeni- 
tential  type  makes  also  a  solitary  assumption  of  worth,  and  the 
assumption  is  part  of  the  portrait. 

There  is,  then,  a  total  demolition  and  destruction  of  this 
visible  Gospel  portrait  upon  the  principle  now  commented  on, 
because  with  the  omission  of  the  supernatural  sinlessness  must 
go,  and  with  the  fact  of  sinlessness  the  pretension  to  it  must  go — 
that  is,  the  whole  of  that  high  and  majestic  assumption  which 
constitutes  the  peculiarity  of  the  character  of  Christ  in  the 
Gospels.  For  what  is  the  character  in  the  Gospels  without  this 
claim  ?  Particular  features  might  be  left,  but  the  whole  would 
be  gone.  We  should  have  a  different  character.  The  super- 
natural in  Him  goes  deeper  than  into  His  outward  miraculous 
life — namely,  into  the  structure  of  His  moral  character. 

One  remark  in  conclusion.  The  liberty  of  permanently 
omitting  any  elements  in  the  Gospel  life  of  Christ  must  assume 
the  spuriousness  of  those  parts  of  the  Gospels  which  contain 


'  Of  Christ  alone  without  Sin!  135 

those  elements.  The  liberty  to  omit  the  outward  miracles 
must  assume  the  spuriousness  of  the  miraculous  record.  The 
liberty  to  omit  the  supernatural  offices  of  Christ  must  assume 
the  spuriousness  of  those  parts  which  contain  the  mention  of 
those  offices.  The  liberty  to  omit  all  the  supernatural  must 
assume  the  spuriousness  of  all  those  parts  in  which  a  claim  to 
and  assumption  of  the  supernatural  appears.  And  according 
to  the  foregoing  observations,  the  high  moral  assumption  of  our 
Lord  about  Himself  would  be  included  under  this  head.  The 
Gospel  moral  portrait  of  Christ,  considered  in  the  light  of  a 
whole,  would  thus  have  to  be  pronounced  spurious.  The  whole, 
therefore,  of  this  subject  belongs  to,  and  must  be  handed  over 
to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  department  of  Christian  Evidences. 


THE  doctrine  of  Original  Sin  is  sometimes  stated  as  the 
transmission  of  the  sin  of  Adam,  or  hereditary  sin;  or  as 
the  corruption  of  nature,  and  other  equivalent  phrases.  These 
are  attempts  at  expressing  the  mode  in  which  original  sin 
operates  in  the  human  race.  But  before  we  come  to  the  mode 
of  operation  on  the  part  of  original  sin,  there  is  a  previous  and 
much  more  fundamental  point  to  be  stated,  namely,  what  is  the 
fact  which  is  involved  in  original  sin,  and  which  is  at  once  its 
actual  substance  and  its  evidence  ?  When  we  have  got  the  fact 
of  the  sin,  the  mode  of  it  is  another  and  further  consideration 
not  of  such  fundamental  importance. 

Original  sin  then  is,  fundamentally,  simply  universal  sin. 
That  is  the  fact  which  is  at  once  the  evidence  and  the  substance 
of  it.  We  know  that  if  sin  is  universal,  and  if  there  is  no 
instance  of  a  human  being  without  it,  universal  sin  must 
receive  the  same  interpretation  that  any  other  universal  does, 
namely,  that  it  implies  a  law,  in  consequence  of  which  it  is 
universal.  Nobody  supposes  that  anything  takes  place  uni- 
versally by  chance,  accident,  or  what  we  call  curious  coinci- 
dence. We  know  that  there  must  be  some  law  working  in 
the  case.  That  is  the  reason  why  we  talk  of  the  laws  of  Nature. 
The  laws  of  nature  are  only,  in  their  foundation,  facts — facts 
which  always  happen  in  certain  circumstances ;  but  because 
they  are  universal  we  invariably,  and  by  the  very  construction 
of  our  minds,  infer  that  there  is  a  cause  for  this  universality  ; 
we  cannot  imagine  that  a  thing  occurs  universally  by  chance. 
A  person  may  throw  the  same  number  two  or  three  times  run- 
ning by  chance ;  but  if  he  threw  it  fifty  times  running,  we 
should  be  perfectly  certain  that  it  was  not  by  chance,  but  that 
there  was  a  cause  for  it,  or  that  it  came  up  thus  invariably  by 
a  law.  And  so,  before  the  physical  cause  of  the  different 

1  Delivered  in  the  Latin  Chapel. 


Original  Sin.  1 3  7 

seasons  of  the  year  was  found  out  by  astronomical  discovery, 
people  knew  that  there  must  be  a  cause  for  this  uniform 
succession,  or  that  it  was  by  a  law  that  the  seasons  always 
followed  each  other  in  the  same  order.  And  so  now,  when 
certain  sequences  in  nature  are  universal,  though  the  discovery 
of  the  cause  may  not  yet  have  taken  place,  we  know  there 
must  be  a  cause ;  that  these  sequences  take  place  by  a  law, 
and  not  by  chance. 

And  this  consequence  applies  just  as  much  to  the  fact  of 
sin  in  the  human  race,  if  it  is  universal.  If  it  is  universal,  if  no 
man  who  ever  lived  was  without  it,  and  not  only  his  whole  life 
without  it,  but  if  no  man  was  ever  without  it  altogether  in  any 
moment  of  his  life, — if  not  in  act  or  word,  still  in  thought  or 
some  inner  and  latent  desire  and  inclination  of  his  mind ; — if 
sin  is  thus  universal,  it  must  be  so  by  some  law.  And  this  law 
we  call  Original  Sin  :  we  say  it  is  the  fault  or  corruption  of  the 
nature  of  every  man ;  that  it  is  an  inclination  to  evil  belonging 
to  the  nature.  But  before  original  sin  becomes- a  law  it  is  a  fact 
—it  is  the  fact  of  universal  sin.  That  is  its  visible  and  tangible 
shape, — the  shape  in  which  we  meet  original  sin  actually. 
We  first  observe  the  fact  of  universal  sin ;  and  thence,  as  in 
other  cases  of  universal  fact,  we  infer  a  law  of  sin.  It  is 
evident,  indeed,  that  there  can  be  no  ground  for  a  law,  unless 
there  is  a  universal  fact  of  some  kind  in  the  first  place.  We 
should  feel  no  need  for  a  law,  and  no  dispute  could  arise  about 
original  sin  at  all.  Supposing  the  facts  of  the  case  were  that 
a  few  men  only  were  sinners ;  such  a  fact  as  this  would  be 
accounted  for  by  the  ordinary  action  of  free-will — that  men  had 
free-will,  and  that  some  used  it  for  good  and  others  for  evil. 
There  would  be  nothing  but  what  could  be  explained  upon 
the  common  principle  of  contingency  or  an  even  chance.  We 
should  feel,  therefore,  no  need  for  a  law.  But  if  the  facts  of 
the  case  are  that  all  men  are  sinners,  and  that  nobody  could  be 
believed  who  said  he  was  not,  then  we  say  there  is  a  law 
on  the  subject.  There  must  be  some  cause.  The  universal 
fact  cannot  be  by  chance,  or  by  the  mere  contingent  action  of 
men's  own  wills.  Supposing  we  knew  nothing  of  the  existing 
facts  of  human  nature,  and  were  only  told  that  a  race  of  beings 


138  Original  Sin. 

was  created  who  had  the  power  of  acting  well  or  ill,  according 
as  they  chose,  and  that  the  side  each  individual  would  take 
was  beforehand  a  contingency,  could  we  prophesy  that  all  would 
be  sinners  ?  We  should  have  no  ground  for  such  a  prophecy. 
Beforehand  each  man  would  be  as  likely  to  avoid  sin  as  to  fall 
into  it.  When  then  in  matter  of  fact  we  find  that  all  men  are 
under  sin,  and  that  nobody  gets  free  from  it,  we  find  a  state  of 
things  that  could  not  have  been  calculated  upon,  on  the  sole 
hypothesis  of  a  contingent  action  of  free-will  in  each. 

Let  us  take  the  old  heathen  proverb — ol  TrXe/oz^e?  KO,KOL — 
can  we  account  for  this  result  upon  mere  chance  or  contin- 
gency ?  The  heathen  saying  did  not  of  course  mean  that  the 
majority  were  wicked  in  the  sense  of  committing  crimes  and 
gross  offences  which  the  civil  law  or  society  took  notice  of ; 
but  only  that  there  was  a  taint  in  their  aim  and  scope  in  life, 
a  low  standard,  an  indifference  to  virtue.  But  why  should 
there  be  a  much  larger  number  of  this  sort  than  of  the  other 
sort  ?  Why  should  those  whose  minds  espouse  virtue  and  are 
congenial  to  it  be  the  few,  and  those  who  are  of  the  other 
character  be  the  great  mass  ?  Why  should  it  be  so,  rather  than 
that  it  should  be  equal  both  ways  ?  Upon  the  hypothesis  of 
simple  contingency  to  start  with, — a  free-will  in  everybody, 
and  nothing  more  to  take  into  consideration,  the  chances  are  as 
much  one  way  as  the  other.  The  existing  state  of  things  then  is 
not  accounted  for  by  mere  free-will ;  and  mankind  are  in  a  con- 
dition in  which  they  would  not  be  upon  the  doctrine  of  mere 
contingency.  There  must  therefore  be  a  reason  for  this.  The 
proverb  of  ol  TrAe/oz/e?  KCLKOI  implies  a  law  in  operation. 

Such  is  the  foundation  upon  which  the  doctrine  of  Original 
Sin  arises  ;  there  is  first  the  universal  fact  of  sin  ;  and  then  the 
interpretation,  which  always  follows,  of  a  general  and  acknow- 
ledged fact  into  a  law.  What  we  call  that  law  is  a  secondary 
question  ;  the  great  thing  is  to  see  that  there  is  a  law.  If  all 
the  individuals  who  come  under  the  head  of  a  certain  nature 
have  sin  in  them,  then  one  mode  of  expressing  this  law  is  to 
say  that  it  belongs  to  the  nature  ;  the  nature  being  the  common 
property  and  ground  in  which  all  meet.  If  all  are  descended 
from  a  common  stock,  then  another  form  of  expressing  this  law 


Original  Sin.  139 

is  that  of  transmission  or  descent — and  we  call  it  hereditary 
sin,  or  birth- sin.  But  the  acknowledgment  of  there  being  a 
law  is  the  first  and  most  important  matter  ;  the  particular 
way  in  which  to  express  the  law  is,  though  not  unimportant, 
a  subordinate  question. 

Now,  then,  let  us  turn  to  St.  Paul's  mode  of  treating 
the  subject,  and  to  the  order  in  which  he  proceeds.  It  is  a 
characteristic  of  St.  Paul  that  he  writes  without  outward 
method ;  and  yet  in  the  midst  of  the  free  and  informal  and 
broken  epistolary  language  of  his  letters,  there  is  an  order 
very  easily  perceptible  in  his  flow  of  thought  on  this  subject ; 
and  that  is  the  order  which  has  been  just  spoken  of,  namely, 
that  there  is  first  laid  down  by  him  the  fact  of  universal  sin, 
and  then  and  upon  that  fact  is  established  a  law  of  sin  or  what 
we  call  original  sin.  St.  Paul's  broad  statement  of  the  facts 
of  the  case,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Eomaus,  will 
immediately  occur  to  us.  The  first  thing  he  does,  on  entering 
upon  the  subject  of  that  Epistle,  is  to  look  around  him  simply, 
and  see  what  the  facts  are. 

He  puts  himself  into  the  position  of  a  spectator,  and  directs 
his  eye  to  the  great  trunk  lines  of  human  action  and  forms  of 
human  character  that  have  occupied  the  ground  in  all  ages, 
and  under  the  Divine  dispensation  and  covenant  as  well  as 
outside  it.  He  looks  on  all  sides  of  him,  and  he  sees  that 
mankind  as  a  mass  have  always  acted  in  a  way  to  offend  their 
Maker  and  violate  their  own  consciences.  All,  both  the  Jews 
and  Gentiles,  are  proved  under  sin.  "  By  the  deeds  of  the  law 
there  shall  no  flesh  be  justified"  (Eom.  iii.  20); — "all  have 
sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God"  (ver.  23); — "death 
passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned"  (Eom.  v.  12); — 
"If  one  died  for  all  men,  then  were  all  dead"  (2  Cor.  v.  14). 
We  can  discern  the  universal  assertion  indirectly  under  other 
forms.  Thus  :  "  the  law  worketh  wrath  "  (Eom.  iv.  1 5) ;  that  is, 
no  man  fulfils  the  law,  but  is  self-condemned  under  it;  which 
is  an  assertion  of  the  universal  law  of  sin.  Again :  "  while 
we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us"  (Eom.  v.  8); — "you 
who  were  dead  in  sins"  (Eph.  ii.  1); — "who  hath  delivered  us 
from  the  power  of  darkness"  (Col.  i.  13);— "we"  and  "you" 


1 40  Original  Sin. 

are   universals,  meaning  all  of  us ;   because  those  whom  he 
addresses  are  only  samples  of  all  mankind. 

And  while  this  is  the  broad  historical  view  of  mankind, 
the  great  conclusion  of  observation,  St.  Paul  also  goes  within, 
and  finds  a  universal  consciousness  of  sin  in  the  inward  experi- 
ence of  the  soul  as  well ;  that  no  man  fulfils  the  law  to  his 
own  satisfaction ;  but  that  there  is  a  falling-off,  a  shortcoming 
for  which  he  reproaches  himself.  This  is  a  universal  fact  of  in- 
ward experience  :  "  when  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with 
me ;  .  .  .  that  which  I  do  I  allow  not ;  ...  for  what  I  would, 
that  do  I  not;  but  what  I  hate  that  do  I"  (Eom.  vii.  21,  15). 

It  is,  then,  upon  the  great  and  broad  ground  of  experience 
and  observation  that  St.  Paul  founds  the  doctrine  of  Original 
Sin.  He  first  appeals  to  history  and  then  to  conscience  for  a 
universal  fact;  first  comes  the  observation  of  what  is  without, 
and  then  the  examination  of  what  goes  on  within  the  soul  of 
man.  On  the  great  stage  of  the  world  and  history  was  open, 
triumphant,  and  unresisted  sin ;  in  the  interior  scene  of  the 
human  heart,  where  conscience  has  come  into  action,  was  sin 
resisted,  but  still  not  subdued ;  in  both  was  sin,  and  both  to- 
gether make  the  universal  fact  of  sin ;  and  when  he  has  got 
the  universal  fact  he  lays  dowrn  and  expresses  the  law. 

With  respect  then  to  this  Law  of  sin,  it  must  be  observed 
that  St.  Paul  at  first  calls  it  simply  a  law — as  in  the  remark- 
able passage  Eom.  vii.,  using  the  word  in  a  sense  somewhat 
analogous  to  the  modern,  namely,  that  of  an  unknown  cause  at 
work,  which  is  shown  by  universality  of  experience.  "  I  find 
then  a  law,  that  when  1  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with 
me ;" — "  I  see  another  law  in  my  members  ;" — "  the  law  of  sin 
which  is  in  my  members."  But  when  he  expresses  that  law, 
which  universal  fact  shows,  more  specifically  and  descriptively, 
he  expresses  it  under  the  form  of  a  connection  between  our- 
selves and  the  first  man,  as  the  head  of  our  race  and  its 
representative,  and  this  connection  again  either  takes  the  form 
of  the  first  man's  sin  being  imputed  to  us,  or  of  the  first  man's 
sin  descending  to  us : — "  By  one  man  sin  entered  into  the 
world,  and  death  by  sin;" — "for  if  through  the  offence  of  one 
many  be  dead ;" — "  the  judgment  was  by  one  to  condemnation  " 


Original  Sin.  141 

(Kom.  v.)  ; — "  by  one  man's  offence  death  reigned  by  one  ; " 
— by  the  offence  of  one  judgment  came  upon  all  men  to 
condemnation  ; " — "  by  one  man's  disobedience  many  were 
made  sinners"  (Eom.  v.  18,  19);— "in  Adam  all  die"  (1  Cor. 
xv.  22).  This  is  the  language  which  describes  the  law,  and 
figures  what  kind  of  a  law  that  is  which  the  universal  fact 
of  sin  proves  the  existence  of.  It  gives  a  certain  specific  shape 
and  outline  to  the  law ;  but  that  there  is  a  law,  he  has  said 
implicitly  before  in  the  whole  Epistle,  in  saying  that  sin  is 
universal.  That  is  his  staple  mode  of  declaring  and  asserting 
the  existence  of  a  law ;  of  maintaining  and  laying  down  the 
principle  of  Original  Sin.  It  is  sometimes  said, — St.  Paul  only 
makes  mention  of  original  sin  in  four  or  five  texts — as  if  it  was 
a  slight  exceptional  and  casual  basis  in  the  apostle's  language 
on  which  the  Church  had  founded  the  doctrine  of  Original 
Sin.  But  when  we  examine — although  the  actual  law  itself 
is  seldom  laid  down  in  terms,  in  reality  and  implicitly  every 
universal  of  St.  Paul's  is  a  law ;  for  you  cannot  assert  a 
universal  without  tacitly  asserting  a  law.  In  truth  then  the 
doctrine  of  Original  Sin  is  contained  in  that  whole  language 
in  which  St.  Paul  asserts  the  universal  fact  of  sin. 

The  language  of  St.  Paul,  then,  which  described  the  law  of 
sin  which  universal  fact  evidenced — which  described  this  law 
as  the  sin  of  the  race  in  the  first  man,  or  the  imputation  of 
the  first  man's  sin  to  the  race,  was  adopted  and  exemplified 
by  the  Church.  Original  Sin  indeed  did  not  always  stand, 
either  in  the  apostle's  language  or  in  patristic  language,  in 
special  or  definite  connection  with  Adam.  The  phrases  which 
St.  Paul  employs  often  have  reference  only  to  our  nature 
generally,  without  the  mention  of  the  person  of  Adam  at  all : 
"  we  are  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath  : "  and  the  expression 
the  "  natural  man"  implies  the  same  general  form  of  the  law  of 
sin  as  adhering  to  the  nature.  And  the  Fathers  employ  the 
general  phrases  of  "  The  Apostasy,"  "  The  Captivity,"  "  Naturae 
corruptio,"  and  the  like,  which  contain  no  reference  to  a  personal 
source  of  original  sin.  So  Tatian  says  generally — rj 
^ct/tatTreTTj?  :  Athanasius — 77  tyv%ri  aTrodracra.  Basil — 77 
TraparpaTrelaa.  Tatian  again  77  Trpcorrj  yevecri,? — T\  7rd\aia  ye 


142  Original  Sin. 

without  express  reference  to  Adam.  But  still  the  idea  of 
transmission  of  hereditary  sin  was  very  prominent  in  the 
patristic  mode  of  describing  Original-  Sin.  "  Fuit  Adam  et  in 
illo  fuimus  omnes,"  says  St.  Ambrose.  "In  lumbis  Adam 
fuiinus,"  says  Augustine. — "Unus  quisque  homo  cum  primo 
nascitur" — "  In  illo  qui  hoc  fecit,  quando  id  egit,  omnes  eramus" 
— "Ipsi  atque  ille  adhuc  unus  fuerunt."  He  calls  Original 
Sin  originis  vitium,  originis  contagium,  and  explains — "Hoc 
delictum  alienum  obnoxia  successione  fit  nostrum!' — "Cujus 
male  reatus  non  innocentibus,  ut  dicis,  sed  reis  imputatur." 

Original  sin  then  is  here  described  in  language  which  is  a 
sort  of  paraphrase  and  amplification  of  the  language  of  St.  Paul, 
and  which  puts  the  sin  before  us  sometimes  simply  as  the  sin 
of  our  nature,  sometimes  as  sin  contracted  at  our  birth  arid  by 
our  descent  from  Adam,  who  first  sinned.  But  it  must  be 
observed  that  all  this  was  only  a  mode  of  describing  a  law, 
the  nature  of  which  in  itself  is  utterly  unknown  to  us,  but  the 
existence  of  which  is  implied  in  the  fact  of  Universal  Sin. 

When  a  great  philosopher  of  this  country,  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge,  came  to  consider  the  subject  of  Original  Sin  in  his 
Aids  to  Reflection — a  book  which  has  had  great  influence  in 
forming  the  religious  philosophical  mind  of  this  country,  he 
undertook  the  office  of  forming  a  new  language  to  express 
that  law  of  sin  in  the  human  race  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking,  and  it  appeared  of  great  importance  to  him  entirely 
to  cut  out  of  the  description  of  Original  Sin  all  reference  to 
the  person  of  the  first  man — all  idea  of  transmission  or 
hereditary  sin ;  all  idea  of  an  imputation,  or  of  Adam's  sin 
being  charged  and  reckoned  as  sin  to  his  posterity.  The  idea 
which  he  aimed  at  expressing  was  that  of  an  apostasy  of  the 
will — the  whole  and  universal  will  of  the  human  race.  He  con- 
sidered Adam's  fall  only  as  representing  a  fall  in  every  individual 
will,  or  in  the  Universal  will  of  man ;  and  not  as  having  any 
actual  effect  peculiar  to  itself  by  transmission  or  imputation. 

When  we  come  then  to  the  examination  of  Coleridge's 
philosophy  on  the  subject  of  Original  Sin,  we  find  in  the  first 
place,  that  original  sin  is  founded  in  his  idea,  as  St.  Paul 
represents  it  as  being,  upon  the  universal  fact  of  sin ;  and  is 


Original  Sin.  143 

only  a  law  representing  that  fact.  He  says,  "  Sin  is  evil, 
having  an  origin.  But  inasmuch  as  it  is  evil,  it  cannot 
originate  in  God;  and  yet  in  some  Spirit  it  must.  Sin 
therefore  is  spiritual  Evil ;  but  the  spiritual  in  Man  is  the 
Will.  Now  when  we  do  not  refer  to  any  particular  sins,  but  to 
that  state  and  constitution  of  the  will  which  is  the  cause  of 
all  sins  ...  in  this  case,  we  may  with  no  less  propriety  than 
force  entitle  this  dire  spiritual  evil,  and  source  of  all  evil, 
— Original  Sin."1  Here  Coleridge  in  truth  primarily  calls 
Original  Sin  simply  universal  sin.  He  says  it  is  evil  in  the  will, 
only  evil  not  in  a  particular  will  only,  but  in  all  will— that  is, 
not  in  any  one  man's  will,  but  in  all  men's  wills.  This  is  to  say, 
he  only  speaks  of  it  as  a  universal  fact.  But  from  the  fact  he 
infers  the  law  :  from  universal  evil  in  men's  wills,  original  sin. 
"  Let  the  grounds,"  he  says,  "  on  which  the  fact  of  an  Evil 
'inherent  in  the  Will  is  affirmable  in  the  instance  of  any  one 
Man,  be  supposed  equally  applicable  in  every  instance,  and 
concerning  all  men :  so  that  the  fact  is  asserted  of  the 
individual,  not  because  he  has  committed  this  or  that  crime,  or 
because  he  has  shown  himself  to  be  this  or  that  man,  but 
simply  because  he  is  a  man.  Let  the  evil  be  supposed  such  as 
to  imply  the  impossibility  of  an  individual's  referring  to  any 
particular  time  at  which  it  might  be  conceived  to  have  com- 
menced, or  to  any  period  of  his  existence  at  which  it  was  not 
existing.  Let  it  be  supposed,  in  short,  that  the  subject  stands 
in  no  relation  whatever  to  Time,  can  neither  be  called  in  time 
nor  out  of  time ;  but  that  all  relations  of  Time  are  as  alien 
and  heterogeneous  in  this  question,  as  the  relations  or  attributes 
of  Space  (north  or  south,  round  or  square,  thick  or  thin)  are  to 
our  Affections  and  Moral  Feelings.  Let  the  reader  suppose 
this,  and  he  will  have  before  him  the  precise  import  of  the 
Scriptural  doctrine — or  rather  of  the  fact  acknowledged  in  all 
ages,  and  recognised,  but  not  originating,  in  the  Christian 
Scriptures — of  Original  Sin."2  Again, "  The  actual  existence  of 
moral  evil  we  are  bound  in  conscience  to  admit ;  and  that  there 
is  an  Evil  common  to  all  is  a  fact ;  and  this  Evil  must  therefore 
have  a  common  ground.  Now  this  evil  ground  cannot  originate 

1  Aids  to  Reflection,  2d  edition,  p.  263.  2  Hid.  p.  179. 


1 44  Original  Sin. 

in  the  Divine  Will ;  it  must  therefore  be  referred  to  the  Will  of 
Man.     And  this  evil  ground  we  call  "  Original  Sin." l 

The  philosopher  thus  entirely  agrees  in  the  substantial 
doctrine  of  Original  Sin ;  nor  can  we  be  otherwise  than  struck 
with  his  deep  sense  of  the  unfathomable  mystery  of  sin  and  of 
the  absolute  necessity  there  is  of  acknowledging  the  existence 
of  a  law  of  sin  in  human  nature,  which  must  be  expressed  in 
some  way  or  other.  What  he  differs  from  the  patristic  and 
received  doctrine  in  is  only  the  form  of  expression ;  he  objects 
to  considering  original  sin  a  transmission  from  one  person  to 
another,  and  insists  on  having  it  regarded  as  the  vice  and  cor- 
ruption of  all  Will  in  common, — all  human  wills,  which  have 
concurred  in  contracting  this  nature,  in  bringing  down  upon 
themselves  this  yoke,  and  in  subjecting  themselves  by  some 
universal,  inexplicable,  and  mystical  act  to  the  law  of  sin.  The 
corrupt  nature  of  the  will,  Coleridge  argues,  must  in  some 
sense  or  other  be  considered  its  own  act,  that  is  to  say,  the  cor- 
ruption must  have  been  self- originated.  This  he  considers  to 
be  a  conclusion  which  follows  from  the  very  nature  of  the 
case,  because  it  would  not  have  been  the  corruption  of  the  will 
if  it  had  sprung  from  any  other  origin  than  the  will.  But 
this  act,  in  the  case  of  a  universal  corruption,  must  be  a 
universal  one,  and  such  an  act  is  a  mystery  and  an  enigma 
just  as  much  as  sin  by  transmission  is.  It  is  true  the  law  is 
exemplified  perpetually  in  human  conduct,  that  the  will  can 
by  its  own  acts  make  a  sinful  nature  for  itself,  can  subject 
itself  to  a  law  of  sin  which  then  domineers  over  and  dictates 
to  it.  We  have  not  to  go  far  for  the  proof  of  such  a  liability 
in  the  will,  for  in  truth  every  sinful  habit  a  man  contracts  is 
to  a  certain  extent  an  instance  of  it.  Habit  is  a  second  nature, 
and  in  proportion  as  a  man  falls  under  the  power  of  a  bad 
habit,  in  that  proportion  he  loses  the  freedom  of  his  will. 
And  our  experience  shows  that  bad  habits  once  contracted  may 
become  so  strong,  and  may  secure  so  deep  a  foundation  in  the 
man,  that  practically  he  loses  his  free  will,  and  becomes  the 
slave  of  his  habit,  bound  to  an  irresistible  law  of  sin  within  him  : 
while  at  the  same  time  the  slavery  under  which  he  has  fallen 

1  Aids  to  Reflection,  2d  edition,  p.  281. 


Original  Sin.  145 

is  strictly  the  consequence  of  his  acts,  and  of  the  bad  use  of 
his  own  free-will.  The  rule  to  which  Augustine  is  so  often 
referring — of  Peccatum  pcena  peccati — that  the  punishment  of 
sin  is  sin,  the  punishment  of  sinful  acts,  a  sinful  habit,  and 
sometimes  ultimately  an  irresistible  sinful  habit,  is  verified 
constantly  in  the  facts  that  come  under  our  eyes. 

But  this,  though  it  is  a  common- sense  explanation  of  one 
individual  will  contracting  a  sinful  nature,  such  as  we  call  an 
irresistible  bad  habit,  fails  entirely  as  a  solution  of  all  wills 
having  done  so.  The  difficulty  now  is  the  universality  of  the 
action  in  the  will,  which  brought  on  its  corruption  and  degrada- 
tion. How  is  it  that  all  wills  have  done  this  act — have  done 
that  which  issued  in  a  sinful  nature  ?  If  all  wills  have  gone 
wrong,  that  cannot  be  by  chance  or  mere  coincidence;  it  must 
be  by  a  law.  Thus  what  you  want  to  account  for  is  a  law  of 
sin  in  the  will ;  and  what  you  account  for  this  law  of  sin  ly,  is 
a  law  too.  The  difficulty  is  thus  as  far  from  a  solution  as  ever. 

Coleridge's  mode  of  expressing  the  doctrine  of  original  sin 
then  has  no  advantage  over  that  of  the  Fathers,  and  over  the 
ordinary  language  of  the  Church,  in  respect  of  being  at  all  less 
mysterious  and  incomprehensible.  There  cannot  be  a  more 
unfathomable  and  inexplicable  mystery  than  what  he  assumes 
— a  universal  act  of  self-corruption  and  self-degradation  in  the 
will  of  the  human  race.  The  usual  theological  mode  of 
expressing  the  doctrine  of  Original  Sin  is  by  the  supposition  of 
a  transmission  of  sin  from  one  person  to  another,  or  a  descent 
of  sin  through  successive  generations.  Coleridge  says  not 
that  one  will  has  inoculated  another  will,  not  that  contagion 
has  spread  from  one  being  to  another ;  but  that  all  will  has 
gone  wrong  ;  that  universal  will  has,  by  a  universal  act,  origin- 
ated its  own  corruption.  But  this  act  he  describes  himself  as 
a  wholly  mystical  idea,  and  entirely  out  of  the  sphere  of  reason's 
cognisance.  It  is  an  act,  he  says,  which  cannot  be  referred  to 
any  particular  time  ;  which  "  stands  in  no  relation  to  Time,  can 
neither  be  called  in  time  nor  out  of  time,"  and  to  which  "  all 
relations  of  Time  are  as  alien  and  heterogeneous  as  the  relations 
and  attributes  of  space  are  to  our  affections  and  moral  feelings."  L 

1  Aids  to  Reflection,  2d  edition,  p.  279. 
K 


146  Original  Sin. 

This  is  profound  mysticism;  and  so  he  himself  concludes, 
"  The  fact,"  he  says, "  of  a  law  in  the  nature  of  man  resisting  the 
law  of  God"  has  been  universally  acknowledged  as  "a  mystery, 
and  one  which,  by  the  nature  of  the  subject,  must  ever  remain 
such,"1 — a  problem  of  which  any  other  solution  than  the  state- 
ment of  the  fact  itself  is  demonstrably  impossible.  The  reason 
why  Coleridge  prefers  fixing  the  source  of  original  sin  in  the 
unfathomable  abyss  of  universal  created  will  to  the  ordinary 
theological  language  of  transmission,  is  that  the  statement  does 
not  involve  any  difficulty  on  the  score  of  justice,  as  the  common 
notion  of  transmission  does.  In  this  new  philosophical 
language,  it  is  its  own  evil  act  for  which  all  evil  is  punished — 
punished  with  a  law  of  evil.  It  is  true  that  this  act  is  out  of  the 
sphere  of  time,  is  in  no  relation  to  time,  and  is  totally  incom- 
prehensible ;  but  the  form  of  statement,  the  mode  of  speaking, 
as  such,  avoids  the  collision  with  justice;  which  collision  attaches 
prima  facie  to  the  arrangement  of  one  individual  receiving  his 
sin  from  another.  He  supposes  therefore  that  he  gains  an  advan- 
tage by  superseding  this  arrangement ;  which  is  exposed  to  a 
charge  of  injustice  which  one  common  universal  lapse  escapes. 

In  estimating  the  value  of  this  difference,  however,  we  must 
consider  to  what  extent  we  regard  the  ordinary  theological 
mode  of  describing  original  sin  as  really  open  to  this  charge. 
It  is  a  charge  which  only  touches  the  mere  surface  of  the 
language,  and  not  its  substance.  The  surface  of  the  language 
is  indeed  open  to  the  charge  that  one  man  is  punished  for  the 
sin  of  another ;  but  that  is  a  language  which  we  use  with  the 
acknowledged  understanding  that  we  only  use  it  to  express  an 
unknown  truth  of  which  we  have  no  actual  idea.  We  are  not 
committed  to  an  injustice  by  it,  but  only  to  a  mystery.  This 
alone  is  the  substance  of  the  language. 

But  whatever  perplexity  attaches  to  the  article  of 
original  sin,  or  the  corrupt  and  sinful  nature  of  the  human 
will,  the  philosopher  explains  in  a  passage2  which  I  will  quote 
at  length,  "  This  is  no  tenet — and  it  will  remove  a  world  of 
error  to  hear  it — that  was  first  introduced  and  imposed  by 
Christianity,  and  which,  should  a  man  see  reason  to  disclaim 
1  Aids  to  Reflection,  2d  edition,  p.  277.  2  Pp.  275,  276. 


Original  Sin .  147 

the  authority  of  the  Gospel,  would  no  longer  have  any  claim  on 
his  attention.  It  is  no  perplexity  that  a  man  may  get  rid  of 
by  ceasing  to  be  a  Christian,  and  which  has  no  existence  for  a 
philosophic  Deist.  It  is  a  FACT,  affirmed,  indeed,  in  the  Chris- 
tian Scriptures  '  alone  with  the  force  and  frequency  pro- 
portioned to  its  consummate  importance ;  but  a  fact  acknow- 
ledged in  every  religion  that  retains  the  least  glimmering  of 
the  patriarchal  faith  in  a  God  infinite,  yet  personal !  A  fact 
assumed  or  implied  as  the  basis  of  every  religion,  of  which  any 
relics  remain  of  earlier  date  than  the  last  and  total  apostasy  of 
the  pagan  world,  when  the  faith  in  the  great  I  AM,  the  Creator, 
was  extinguished  in  the  sensual  polytheism  which  is  inevitably 
the  final  result  of  Pantheism  or  the  worship  of  Nature.  .  .  . 
Thus  in  the  most  ancient  books  of  the  Brahmans,  the  deep 
sense  of  this  fact,  and  the  doctrines  grounded  on  obscure  tra- 
ditions of  the  promised  remedy,  are  seen  struggling,  and  now 
gleaming,  now  flashing,  through  the  mist  of  Pantheism,  and 
producing  the  incongruities  and  gross  contradictions  of  the 
Brahman  Mythology.  .  .  .  From  the  remote  East  turn  to  the 
mythology  of  Minor  Asia,  to  the  descendants  of  Javan,  who 
dwelt  in  the  tents  of  Shem,  and  possessed  the  Isles.  Here 
again,  and  in  the  usual  form  of  an  historic  solution,  we  find 
the  same  fact,  and  as  characteristic  of  the  human  race,  stated 
in  that .  earliest  and  most  venerable  Mythus  (or  symbolic  par- 
able) of  Prometheus — that  truly  wonderful  fable,  in  which  the 
characters  of  the  rebellious  spirit  and  of  the  Divine  Friend 
of  mankind  are  united  in  the  same  Person :  and  thus  in  the 
most  striking  manner  noting  the  forced  amalgamation  of  the 
Patriarchal  Tradition  with  the  incongruous  scheme  of  Pan- 
theism. .  .  .  The  fact  of  a  moral  corruption  con-natural  with 
the  human  race  was,  however,  recognised  ;  and  in  the  assertion 
of  Original  Sin  the  Greek  Mythology  rose  and  set." 

Such  is  the  position  of  Coleridge  with  reference  to  Original 
Sin.  I  will  conclude  with  the  reflection  that  it  is  when  we  view 
the  consciousness  of  sin  as  the  law  of  our  nature  in  this  life, 
that  the  sinlessness  of  Christ  appears  in  its  true  light  as  a 
supernatural  fact — an  inward  invisible  miracle  surpassing  in 
wonder  any  of  the  visible  miracles  which  He  wrought. 

. 


148 


^.—ORIGINAL  SIN  ASSERTED  BY  WORLDLY 
PHILOSOPHERS  AND  POETS. 

THE  great  characteristic  of  St.  Paul's  teaching  is  that  he 
brings  out  so  prominently  the  mystery  of  Original  Sin.  It  is 
remarkable,  and  a  circumstance  which  deserves  notice,  that  in 
this,  the  foundation  mystery  in  St.  Paul's  teaching,  St.  Paul  has 
the  support  of  the  modern  intellect ;  and  that  modern  analysis 
of  character — that  singular  and  deep  fruit  of  the  recent  mind 
of  the  world,  as  dated  from  the  era  of  the  Eenaissance  and  the 
Eeformation — is  in  extraordinary  sympathy  with  St.  Paul's 
leading  doctrine.  It  is  singular  to  observe  that  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  this  law  of  sin  in  our  nature,  this  root  of  evil  in 
humanity,  the  thought  of  modern  times,  so  far  from  diverging 
or  loosening  itself  from  the  great  Apostolic  position,  rather 
fastens  itself  the  more  upon  it ;  and  that  there  has  been  a  most 
remarkable  development  of  this  deep  view  of  human  life  and 
man's  nature ;  that  the  modern  mind  of  the  world  has  in  its 
way  plunged  far  down  into  the  mysterious  idea  of  some  in- 
soluble original  mischief  and  corruption  which  lies  at  the  bottom 
of  this  whole  visible  system  of  the  world  and  human  life. 

The  Satirists  of  the  ancient  world  commented  on  the  vices, 
faults,  and  errors  of  mankind,  but  their  view  of  human  nature 
was  altogether  below  that  of  the  modern  school  of  satire  in 
acuteness,  depth,  and  the  power  of  seeing  facts  as  a  whole. 
Horace,  drawing  with  vivid  fidelity  the  portrait  of  mankind— 
that  part  of  it  which  came  in  his  way, — and  representing  with 
consummate  lightness  of  touch,  dexterity,  and  skill  the  levity 
and  folly  of  men  ;  yet  but  skimmed  the  surface  of  society,  and 
did  not  go  any  way  into  the  darker  part  of  man,  and  the  under- 
ground of  the  structure.  Juvenal  denounced  the  criminal 
classes,  the  slaves  of  luxury,  intemperance,  pride,  and  lust,  the 


Original  Sin  asserted  by  Philosophers  and  Poets.     1 49 

court,  the  world  of  fashion,  and  the  low  adventurous  life  of 
Kome. 

But  when  Satire  was  taken  up  under  Christianity,  and 
under  a  later  philosophical  influence,  it  certainly  penetrated 
much  deeper.  It  assumed  a  new  function  and  office.  It  not 
only  censured,  not  only  branded,  not  only  denounced  and 
stigmatised  men  and  classes  of  men,  but  it  professed  to  lay  bare 
the  foundations  of  human  nature.  Vices,  meannesses,  vanities, 
were  not  single  features,  they  belonged  to  a  whole.  There  was 
something  wrong  in  man,  whence  all  his  thoughts  proceeded. 
It  was  accidental  what  particular  line  this  radical  wrongness 
took ;  it  was  there,  and  sometimes  it  manifested  itself  in  one 
way,  and  sometimes  in  another.  Sin  was  Protean,  it  slided 
into  different  shapes,  it  went  from  one  opposite  to  another ;  the 
outward  figure  it  took  was  not  the  important  thing,  but  the 
inner  substance;  the  symptoms  were  various,  but  they  were 
only  various  as  signs  of  the  original  disease,  which  was  one  and 
the  same.  "  In  the  human  heart,"  said  the  philosopher,  "  there 
is  a  perpetual  generation  of  passions,  so  that  the  ruin  of  one  is 
almost  always  the  foundation  of  another.  Passions  often  pro- 
duce their  contraries ;  avarice  sometimes  leads  to  prodigality, 
and  prodigality  to  avarice ;  we  are  often  obstinate  through 
weakness,  and  daring  through  timidity."  But  again,  what  was 
very  important,  and  showed  a  far  deeper  and  more  subtle 
power,  satire  in  this  new  stage  entered  into  the  structure  and 
probed  the  root  of  human  virtues.  It  tried  them  by  a  test 
never  tried  at  least  with  system  and  determination  before — 
the  test  of  motive.  The  strength  of  this  test  is  in  proportion 
to  the  knowledge  which  he  who  applies  it  has  of  the  springs  of 
action  in  man ;  of  the  foundations  of  character ;  of  the  power  of 
latent  wishes ;  and  the  secret  force  of  certain  aims  and  objects 
which  adhere  to  man  in  spite  of  professions,  and  mingle 
intimately  even  with  his  best  actions.  The  modern  school  of 
analysis  of  character  dragged  all  this  to  light ;  a  deep  know- 
ledge of  human  nature  enabled  it  to  detect  fundamental 
motives,  which  it  then  proceeded  to  fasten  upon  human 
conduct,  and  even  to  append  to  the  man's  virtues.  Such  was 
Eochefoucauld's  philosophy  of  sin.  He  held  that  there  was  a 


150  Original  Sin  asserted  by 

sort  of  sin  in  man  which  produced  various  outward  forms  of 
sin,  and  particular  vices,  but  which  was  in  itself  the  substan- 
tial vice  of  man.  And  in  this  view  human  nature  always 
carried  about  this  original  fault  with  it ;  that  however  it  might 
appear  to  be  raised  above  low  aims,  a  taint  was  still  inherent 
in  man's  motives,  and  a  secret  selfishness  insinuated  itself  into 
his  most  splendid  actions.1  He  probes  with  frigid  accuracy  the 
soundness  of  the  foundation,  and  his  book  is  a  succession  of 
maxims  which  remove  the  mask  from  human  pretensions  and 
professions.  We  identify  him  with  what  is  called  the  Cynical 
Philosophy.  His  name  is  indeed  a  proverb  :  it  stands  for  an 
utter  disbelief  in  the  purity  and  simplicity  of  human  nature, 
for  a  complete  scepticism  as  to  the  genuineness  and  sincerity 
of  men's  virtues.  But  he  was  not  this  disbeliever  in  human 
goodness  from  mere  acrimony,  from  passion,  from  violence, 
and  a  vituperative  spirit.  He  had  a  philosophy,  a  theory  of 
human  action ;  he  analysed  its  motives,  and  upon  this  analysis 
he  came  to  the  result  he  did — that  all  human  virtue  had  for 
its  motive  some  latent  and  refined  form  of  selfishness. 

When  we  enter,  then,  into  this  philosophy,  it  appears  to  us 
.  to  go  into  the  error  which  many  other  philosophies  do,  namely, 
that  it  is  too  complete  and  systematic,  and  consults  unity  at 
the  expense  of  truth.  It  is  the  ambition  of  theories  to  possess 
simplicity.  What  this  theory  does,  is  that  it  lays  down  a 
uniform  root  of  human  action ;  not  only  this,  but  it  represents 
this  root  as  acting  with  uniformity.  It  has  somewhat  of  the 
rigidity  as  regards  virtues,  that  the  Stoic  rule  had  as  regards 
vices — omnia  peccata  paria — all  virtues  are  alike  as  Eochefou- 
cauld  portrays  them ;  alike  under  the  stimulus  of  a  radical 
selfish  motive.  The  mode,  then,  in  which  the  great  men,  who 
conducted  this  analysis  of  human  character,  applied  their  dis- 
covery, admits  of  criticism ;  they  applied  it  roughly  and 
indiscriminately,  without  exactness,  and  without  those  adapt- 
ations and  accommodations  with  which  all  great  maxims  must 
be  applied.  They  applied  their  principle  with  a  certain  passion, 
as  men  use  a  watchword,  which  calls  forth  some  powerful 

1  "  L' amour  propre  fait  tous  les  vices  et  toutes  les  vertus  morales  selon  qu'il 
est  bien  ou  mal  entendu." — Reflexions  Morales,  p.  75,  ed.  1743. 


Worldly  Philosophers  and  Poets.  1 5 1 

sentiment  and  forcible  association.  The  passionate  mode  of 
the  promulgation  of  this  principle,  as  a  truth  respecting  this 
system  of  things,  was  indeed  in  the  case  of  some  of  the  re- 
markable preachers  of  it  vehement  almost  to  madness.  They 
looked  upon  the  whole  face  of  human  society  as  a  disguise, 
which  hid,  underneath  its  high  professions,  a  servile  and  vain 
egotism — there  was  deception  at  the  bottom  of  human  life; 
and  the  original  delusion,  as  it  worked  itself  out,  only  added 
to  its  intricacy,  and  multiplied  the  labyrinth  of  a  fraud. 
Kabelais  wrote  in  a  state  of  furious  scorn  and  indignation, 
which  he  expressed  by  a  boundless  laughter.  And  he  has  his 
echo  in  our  own  literature,  in  him  who  drew  in  bitterness  of 
soul,  and  with  lacerated  heart,  that  picture  of  man  which, 
except  to  himself,  gave  mirth  to  the  whole  world. 

Such  is  the  disturbance  and  excitement  with  which  the 
perception  of  the  root  of  evil  in  human  society  has  operated 
upon  some  minds,  producing  a  commotion  of  the  spirits  like 
that  with  which  one  hears  some  frightful  news,  or  sees  some 
repulsive  spectacle.  Even  Rochefoucauld's  calm  and  imperturb- 
able precision  of  statement  rather  disguises  passion  than 
suppresses  it.  It  is  in  him ;  he  keeps  it  under,  and  does  not 
allow  it  to  come  up  to  the  surface,  but  it  is  there,  underneath 
the  polished  brevity  of  maxim,  underneath  the  oracular  form 
of  judgment,  underneath  all  his  gravity  and  all  his  sententious- 
ness. 

In  the  mode,  then,  of  applying  their  analysis  of  man,  this 
school  went  wrong;  it  erred  in  the  uniformity  and  sameness 
of  the  result ;  and  the  rule  wanted  flexibility  and  elasticity. 
They  omitted  the  important  distinction  in  applying  the 
ordeal  of  motive  ; — that  while  the  mass  of  mankind  were  blind 
to  the  motive  on  which  they  acted,  and  received  into  their 
character  the  full  depravation  of  its  hidden  working,  in  some 
(though  it  acted  by  the  faults  of  nature,  which  was  too  weak  to 
shake  it  off),  it  acted  still  under  a  protest.  It  had  not  that 
dominion  which  a  motive  has  when  the  man  is  utterly  un- 
conscious that  he  is  influenced  by  it :  it  then  plays  havoc  indeed 
in  the  soul,  and  is  under  no  check.  It  was  seen,  the  man  was 
conscious  of  it ;  he  confessed  it,  and  that  was  in  itself  a  kind  of 


1 5  2  Original  Sin  asserted  by 

disowning  of  it.  Sin  then  did  not  reign  over  him,  and  though 
every  action  was  alloyed  by  the  taint  of  some  inward  aim 
which  would  not  stand  the  test  of  open  day,  and  shrank  from 
inspection;  still  the  conscience,  by  its  confession,  relieved 
itself  of  the  guilt  and  condemnation  of  it. 

But  without  entering  at  present  into  the  rigours  and  ex- 
travagances of  this  philosophy,  it  is  enough,  for  the  purpose 
before  us,  if  it  maintained  in  any  shape  the  principle  it  did, 
namely,  that  human  conduct,  even  human  virtue,  was  invari- 
ably accompanied  by  certain  latent  motives  proceeding  from 
self-love ;  and  these  motives  always  mingled  with,  and  corrupted 
the  actions  of  the  man.  For  this,  undoubtedly,  is  to  assert 
original  sin.  The  alloy  of  the  motive  is  represented  by  this 
school  as  universal ;  to  attach  to  every  man ;  it  therefore  exists 
by  a  law ;  it  belongs  to  the  nature ;  it  is  therefore  the  sin  of 
nature ;  that  is,  original  sin.  Indeed,  if  a  universal  falsity,  or 
taint  in  the  motive  is  so  uniform  that  you  may  be  certain  that 
a  man,  simply  because  he  is  a  man,  has  it,  if  those  who  teach 
this  do  not  teach  original  sin,  then  St.  Paul  himself  did  not 
teach  it  either. 

We  have,  then,  risen  up  in  modern  times,  as  the  product  of  a 
large  observation  and  a  keen  philosophy,  a  school  of  analysis 
of  character  which  has  had  enormous  influence,  and  whose 
maxims  have  been  incorporated  with  the  world's  wisdom  ;  and 
this  school  turns  out  to  be  the  unconscious  disciple,  though  at 
the  same  time  distorter,  of  St.  Paul ;  and  its  system  in  a  new 
language,  and  under  a  peculiar  philosophical  dress,  a  republi- 
cation  of  original  sin.  Its  maxims  have  been,  to  the  extent 
which  is  necessary  to  the  present  argument,  received  into  the 
whole  of  society.  Its  rigid  extremes  of  statement  may  have 
been  avoided,  but  residuum  enough  has  been  adopted  to 
establish  that  truth.  It  cannot  then  be  said  that  the  doctrine 
of  St.  Paul  has  become  obsolete :  it  is  new,  it  is  fresh,  it  is 
living,  it  mingles  with  the  intellect  of  the  modern  world,  and 
comes  out  expressed  anew  from  the  search  of  modern  analysis. 
It  falls  in  with  the  lines  of  modern  thought,  it  unites  with  man's 
introspection  of  himself  in  a  new  era  of  philosophy. 

So  with  respect  to  the  doctrine  of  perfectibility,  by  which 


Worldly  Philosophers  and  Poets.  153 

we  mean  man's  perfectibility  in  this  life — the  philosophy  of 
this  school  entirely  ratified  the  scriptural  position.  In  the 
eye  of  Scripture,  as  we  know,  any  mere  man,  fancying  himself 
sinless,  is  a  rebel  against  the  law  of  his  present  being ;  or  is 
deprived  of  his  reason,  and  is  under  captivity  to  some  strong 
delusion.  And  yet  men  have  been  deceived  into  the  idea  that 
they  have  attained  perfection, — that  they  are  in  a  state  pure 
from  all  sin.  Even  the  language  of  the  first  ages  of  the  Church 
was  not  wholly  free  from  concessions  to  this  feeling ;  and 
sects  have  from  time  to  time  been  carried  away  by  the 
hallucination.  Even  very  recent  times  show  instances  of  it, 
and  have  placed  the  attainment  of  perfection  within  their 
system ; — only,  as  might  have  been  foreseen,  as  the  sad  prog- 
nostics of  terrible  downfalls.  How  would  the  philosophy  we 
have  been  considering  treat  such  an  assumption  ?  It  would 
hardly  condescend  to  argue  with  it,  but  would  set  it  down  at 
once  among  the  delusions  and  madnesses  of  mankind.  And 
thus  the  old  truth  of  Scripture  collects,  as  it 'descends  to  this 
modern  era  of  the  world,  the  suffrages  of  modern  thought :  the 
latest  maxims  of  philosophy  concur  with  it,  and  it  mingles 
with  the  whole  vein  of  recent  search  and  analytical  investi- 
gation into  man. 

We  have  nothing  here  to  do  with  the  characteristics  of  those 
leading  men  themselves  who  thus  analysed  the  action  of  man- 
kind, and  formed  the  school  of  modern  philosophical  satire. 
The  wildness  and  extravagance  with  which  some  wrote  gave 
their  philosophy  the  look  of  an  enthusiasm ;  nor  were  they  men 
whose  lives  corresponded  with  the  antagonism  in  which  they 
stood  to  the  corruption  and  selfishness  of  society.  And  in  this 
point  of  view,  the  scope  of  their  philosophy  totally  differed 
from  the  scriptural  writer's.  The  latter  saw  through  the 
corruption  and  fall  of  man  to  a  recovery  beyond ;  and  only 
insisted  on  the  evil  to  direct  to  a  restoration  and  redemption  ; 
but  these  philosophers  only  analysed  human  nature  as 
naturalists  examine  some  species,  to  report  the  facts  ;  they  had 
nothing  to  do  with  religious  hope.  But  this  did  not  make 
them  the  less  true  witnesses.  They  had  gifts— extraordinary 
faculties  of  insight  and  acuteness  of  perception  ;  but  gifts  never 


1 54  Original  Sin  asserted  by 

have  gone,  and  never  will  necessarily,  go  along  with  a  life  en- 
nobled by  them.  True  prophets  have  been  faulty  men.  These 
men  have  done  their  part ; — we  do  not  take  them  for  patterns  ; 
' — they  had  endowments  ;  they  were  enabled  to  see  deeper  into 
human  nature  than  ordinary  people  can.  They  saw  that  men 
professed  to  be  better  than  they  were,  and  they  took  off  the 
disguise.  They  would  not  be  deceived ;  they  would  see  things 
as  they  were  :  "  Decipi  turpe  est "  was  their  motto.  As  a 
school  of  teachers  they  brought  man  to  his  senses,  they 
estimated  him  at  his  value,  and  by  determinate  exposure  of 
the  root  of  evil,  they  overthrew  the  whole  perfectionist  view 
of  human  nature. 

It  is  very  remarkable,  again,  that  in  this  latter  age  of  the 
world,  when  the  mysterious  truths  of  Scripture  have  been 
subjected  to  intellectual  analysis,  and,  upon  not  answering  to 
the  test,  have  been  thrown  aside  by  so  many,  that  a  school  of 
poets  should  have  arisen  who  should  particularly  have  taken 
up  and  been  arrested  by  the  incomprehensible  spectacle  of  a 
fallen  world  and  a  sinful  nature.  The  very  doctrine  which 
the  sceptical  intellect  has  ever  criticised  as  an  inconsistent, 
self -contradictory  one,  not  agreeing  with  itself,  and  therefore 
such  as  reason  must  discard,  was — enigmatical  as  it  was — the 
very  truth  which  this  school  of  poets,  which  I  am  speaking  of, 
saw.  They  looked  within  and  without  them,  into  themselves 
and  into  society,  and  they  saw  a  root  of  sin  in  human  nature 
which  they  could  not  explain ;  and  became  the  involuntary 
witnesses  to  a  great  mystery  on  this  subject.  And  thus  arose 
the  remarkable  spectacle  of  a  school  of  infidel  poetry  giving 
complete  loose  to  its  own  thoughts,  and  yet  issuing  in  an  agree- 
ment with  the  scriptural  oracle  upon  this  great  subject.  It  is 
remarkable,  I  say,  that  at  the  very  commencement  of  a  sceptical 
age,  such  a  school  should,  in  matter  of  fact,  have  taken  up  and 
adopted  this  very  mystical  truth  of  original  sin,  with  all  its 
sadness  and  perplexity,  as  its  great  subject; — the  cardinal 
material  at  once  of  all  its  fretful  pangs  of  anger  and  irritation, 
and  of  its  gloom  and  despondence — and  that  the  great  fact 
which  elicited  that  torrent  of  emotion,  and  furnished  that 
grand  scale  of  sentiment  and  passion,  grief,  and  indignation 


Worldly  Philosophers  and  Poets.  155 

which  characterised  their  poetry,  and  gave  it  its  hold  upon  the 
popular  mind,  should  have  been  the  very  fact  which  St.  Paul 
saw — "the  whole  creation  groaning,  and  travailing'  in  pain 
together  until  now  " — a  world  under  a  law  of  sin,  and,  as  a 
consequence,  of  misery.  To  say  that  Shelley's  or  Byron's  poetry 
is  penetrated  with  a  doctrine  of  original  sin,  may  be  an 
assertion  that  will  sound  strange  and  incongruous :  certainly 
they  had  no  intention  of  supporting  and  seconding  St.  Paul : 
that  is  clear  enough ;  but,  however,  that  was  what  they  did  do 
in  fact ;  if  unconsciously  and  without  knowing  what  they  did, 
and  what  auxiliaries  they  were  to  the  doctrine  of  Scripture,  so 
much  the  more  valuable  their  evidence.  What  they  did  do  in 
fact  was  to  proclaim  human  nature  as  involved  in  some 
inextricable  labyrinth  of  evil ;  of  which  alike  the  source  and 
the  issue  was  inscrutable.  They  did  not  see  this  law  of 
sin  as  reconcileable  with  a  good  God,  as  Scripture  sees  it ;  but 
in  the  acknowledgment  of  a  law  of  evil  itself — that  the  world 
was  under  a  yoke,  and  that  human  nature  was  under  a  cloud ; 
that  conscience  at  the  best  was  restless  and  dissatisfied ;  that 
as  human  nature  came  out  and  its  faculties  and  tendencies 
developed  in  strength,  they  revealed  a  native  corruption  and 
alloy ;  and  that  a  scene  of  enmity,  of  collision,  of  discord  and 
grief  was  the  expansion  of  the  original  seed  of  human  life  ; — 
in  this  they  were  at  one  with  St.  Paul ;  and  with  him  they 
said,  "  The  whole  creation  groaneth,  and  travaileth  in  pain 
together  until  now."  Had  they  been  actual  disciples  of  St. 
Paul  they  could  not  have  embraced  more  tenaciously  the  idea 
of  some  universal  evil  in  humanity  which  was  moral  and 
touched  the  heart ;  of  some  law,  that  is,  of  sin,  in  consequence 
of  which  sin  came  up  by  a  uniform  emergence  in  the  character  of 
mankind.  A  canker  disclosed  itself  in  the  motive,  a  treachery 
in  the  affection,  there  was  an  antagonism  to  good,  working 
within ;  and  the  consequence  was  a  universal  disfigurement 
and  disorder,  an  embroilment  of  relations  and  a  war  of  selfish 
interests,  which  composed  a  moral  chaos,  and  stamped 
degeneracy  and  corruption  in  the  human  race.  What  is  their 
view  of  history  then,  but  that  of  St.  Paul  ?  What  is  their  sad 
interior  of  the  human  soul,  with  its  unequal  strife,  and  languish- 


1 56  Original  Sin  asserted  by 

ing  will,  but  that  of  St.  Paul  ?  In  their  own  language  then, 
and  in  the  midst  of  wild  outbreaks  and  desperate  complaints, 
these  poets  substantially  preach  with  St.  Paul  the  doctrine  of 
original  sin.  They  declare  an  original  deflexion  in  the  human 
race  from  right,  and  a  divergence  into  error  and  vanity.  They 
appear  in  the  unconscious  character  of  witnesses  to  the  truth 
of  Scripture,  and  to  the  profound  depth  of  that  law  of  sin  which 
Scripture  has  proclaimed.  Everything  has,  they  say,  gone 
wrong  here ;  we  are  in  a  maze  of  falsehood  and  deception. 
Wherever  they  go  they  see  before  them  a  scene  which  disturbs, 
confounds,  and  envenoms  them — the  sight  of  a  fallen  world. 

The  idea  of  original  sin  which  we  meet  with  in  these  poets, 
is  indeed  fatalism ;  but  it  agrees  with  St.  Paul's  idea  so  far  as 
this  point  is  concerned,  which  is  the  principal  one  in  the  doc- 
trine of  original  sin ; — that  of  sin  attaching  to  nature.  This 
has  been  the  objection,  as  we  have  seen,  to  that  doctrine; 
that  a  man  cannot  help  his  nature,  and  that  if  he  cannot  help 
it  there  is  not  sin.  Now,  however  neat  an  argument  this  may 
sound  in  naked  philosophy,  you  may  see  how  completely  it  is 
brushed  aside  as  soon  as  men  come  to  actual  facts — to  the 
facts  of  internal  nature  and  moral  sensation.  Sin  attaching 
to  nature  appears  as  a  regular  and  thoroughly  recognised 
combination  in  these  poets.  They  see  a  great  law  of  sin  in 
mankind,  a  seed  of  moral  evil  which  develops  into  a  corrupt 
world,  but  do  they,  because  sin  is  a  law  and  a  nature,  regard  it 
not  as  sin  ?  By  no  means.  It  remains  sin.  It  is  because  it 
is  sin  that  they  complain.  That  is  their  grievance; — that 
there  is  this  fount  of  evil  and  corruption  in  nature,  and  that  it 
is  felt  to  be  evil  and  corruption.  They  see  that  there  is  con- 
sciousness of  sin  in  man  as  such  ;  that  he  cannot  rid  himself 
of  it,  he  cannot  get  over  it; — that  there  is  this  sin  in  his 
nature  ;  and  yet  they  feel  it  is  sin.  Could  the  poet  vote  it  not 
sin,  he  would  have  nothing  to  murmur  about ;  there  would 
be  nothing  to  excite  his  rebellion  and  sense  of  grievance  as  far 
as  this  point  is  concerned ;  it  is  because  he  feels  it  to  be  sin, 
and  cannot  dismiss  it,  that  he  murmurs  and  rebels.  So,  I 
repeat,  sin  is  recognised  by  him  in  the  nature  of  man,  and  still 
it  is  recognised  as  sin.  That  is  to  say,  the  mysterious 


Worldly  Philosophers  and  Poets.  157 

combination  which  rationalism,  discards,  Pelagian  rationalism, 
and  modern  rationalism — the  fundamental  mystery  of  Scripture 
—has  been  adopted  by  an  infidel  school  of  poets.  Lord  Byron 
says  : — 

"  Our  life  is  a  false  nature — 'tis  not  in 
The  harmony  of  things, — this  hard  decree, 
This  uneradicable  taint  of  sin, 
This  boundless  upas,  this  all-blasting  tree, 
Whose  root  is  earth,  whose  leaves  and  branches  be 
The  skies  which  rain  their  plagues  on  men  like  dew — 
Disease,  death,  bondage — all  the  woes  we  see — 
And,  worse,  the  woes  we  see  not — which  throb  through 
The  immedicable  soul,  with  heart-aches  ever  new. " 1 

Again  : — 

"  How  beautiful  is  all  this  visible  world  ! 
How  glorious  in  its  action  and  itself ; 
But  we,  who  name  ourselves  its  sovereigns,  we, 
Half  dust,  half  deity,  alike  unfit 
To  sink  or  soar,  with  our  mix'd  essence  make 
A  conflict  of  its  elements,  and  breathe 
The  breath  of  degradation  and  of  pride, 
Contending  with  low  wants  and  lofty  will, 
Till  our  mortality  predominates, 
And  men  are — what  they  name  not  to  themselves, 
And  trust  not  to  each  other."2 

Byron  then  shows  obviously  enough,  and  by  sufficiently 
loud  demonstrations,  that  the  sense  of  sin  which  he  feels  is  not 
a  mock  sensation,  though  he  regards  it  all  the  time  as  part  of 
a  law  which  attaches  to  his  being.  He  regards  his  life  as  a 
chain  which  has  wound  round  and  round  him  with  the  force  of 
an  irresistible  fate,  which  he  could  not  conquer,  but  at  the 
same  time  hated. 

"For  he  through  Sin's  long  labyrinth  had  run."3 

It  was  a  labyrinth  out  of  the  mazes  and  windings  of  which 
he  could  not  extricate  himself,  yet  he  had  contracted  the  guilt  of 
it ;  it  was  destiny,  and  yet  it  was  sin.  Any  one  indeed  who  is  at 
all  acquainted  with  the  life  of  Lord  Byron  knows  the  state  of 

1  GUlde  Harold,  Canto  iv.  126.  2  Manfred,  Act  I.  Sc.  2. 

8  Childe  Harold,  Canto  i.  5. 


158  Original  Sin  asserted  by 

almost  furious  anger  which  the  remarks  of  society  in  this 
country  upon  his  profligate  and  disorderly  life,  produced  in 
him.  And  yet  the  remarks  that  were  made  were  only  obser- 
vations of  the  plainest  facts,  which  he  could  not  deny ;  they 
were  patent  and  known  to  all  the  world.  But  it  was  because 
they  were  facts,  and  undeniable  facts,  that  the  allusion  to  them 
was  so  infuriating.  He  had,  however,  his  own  point  of  view, 
in  which  this  criticism  appeared  to  him  unfair.  His  life 
had  been,  in  his  own  view,  the  winding  of  a  fatal  chain  round 
him,  coil  after  coil  had  fastened  him  in  its  odious  grasp, 
till  he  was  its  complete  prisoner.  He  was  miserable,  he  was 
tormented  with  himself,  he  was  full  of  discord,  and  torn  with 
self-reproach — not  profitable  self-reproach  indeed,  but  still  such 
as  embittered  his  whole  life.  Why,  then,  when  he  was  thus 
torn  inwardly,  was  he  to  be  the  butt  of  the  animadversions  of 
a  commonplace  world — more  glad  of  an  object  of  easy  censure 
than  watchful  over  itself  ?  This  was  his  point  of  view,  and  it 
was  like  every  attitude  he  took  in  his  whole  career — a  rebellious 
one.  But  one  thing  certainly  was  shown  by  it,  namely,  that 
however  he  regarded  sin  as  a  hard  decree,  an  uneradicable  taint, 
this  boundless  upas,  this  all-blasting  tree,  whose  root  is  earth, — 
however,  that  is,  he  regarded  it  fixed  in  nature,  he  still  regarded 
it  as  sin,  otherwise  it  would  not  have  goaded  him.  When 
we  come  across  the  outbursts  of  the  peculiar  feeling  just 
described,  which  is  nothing  less  than  a  denunciation  of  all 
judgment  and  observation  upon  him,  the  remark  indeed  is 
obvious  that  if  a  man  acts  quite  publicly  and  openly  in  con- 
tradiction to  morality,  he  has  no  right  to  object  to  the  world  at 
large,  at  any  rate,  seeing  what  he  does.  We  are  only,  however, 
concerned  here  to  extract  out  of  this  whole  agitation  and 
demonstration  of  feeling,  that  ingredient  in  it  which  bears  upon 
the  doctrinal  subject  on  which  we  are  engaged.  The  poet 
believes  in  a  great  root  of  evil  in  nature — in  original  sin  ;  but 
he  is  conscious  that,  though  in  nature,  it  is  real  sin.  This  is 
a  combination  which  Pelagianism  resisted,  but  which  St.  Paul 
preached. 

The  other  great  poet  of  this  school — Shelley — would  seem 
at  first  to  deny  a  law  of  sin  in  the  world,  and  to  attribute  the 


Worldly  Philosophers  and  Poets.  159 

whole  of  man's  sin  to  false  teaching,  and  the  ideas  put  into  his 
head  by  interested  men,  rulers  and  superiors ;  he  spurns  the 
doctrine  of  a  sin  of  nature  in  terms  as  taught  by  the  Church, 
and  says  it  is  all  owing  to  a  bad  education.  But  when  we  take 
his  philosophy  as  a  whole,  and  see  what  it  is,  apart  from  words 
that  he  teaches,  what  is  the  fact  he  maintains  ?  we  find  that  it 
is  some  evil  and  moral  evil  in  man  as  a  race  which  is  equivalent 
to  a  sin  of  nature,  though  he  does  not  call  it  such.  He  says  as 
Byron  does : 

"  The  universe 

In  Nature's  silent  eloquence  declares 
That  all  fulfil  the  works  of  love  and  joy, 
All  hit  the  outcast  man."1 

In  behalf  of  the  whole  human  race  he  complains  of  the 
consciousness  of  sin  as  a  yoke  which  has  been  imposed  upon 
him  as  a  hard  necessity  : — 

"And  who  made  terror,  madness,  crime,  remorse, 
Which  from  the  links  of  the  great  chain  of  things 
To  every  thought  within  the  mind  of  man 
Sway  and  drag  heavily,  and  each  one  reels 
Under  the  load  towards  the  pit  of  death, 
Abandoned  hope  and  love  that  turns  to  hate ; 
And  self-contempt  bitterer  to  drink  than  blood  1 "  2 

Now  then  examine  this  language,  "  Who  made  self-con- 
tempt ? "  That  is  a  remarkable  question  to  ask.  The  whole 
phrase  is  extraordinary.  The  phrase  implies  that  man  did  not 
make  it  for  himself,  but  that  it  is  annexed  to  his  nature. 
Translate  this  into  religious  language.  There  is  a  law  of  our 
nature  by  which  we  never  can  gain  self-approval ;  we  try,  but 
cannot ;  we  find  ourselves  obliged  to  condemn  ourselves.  The 
human  spirit  pursues  moral  self-approbation  in  one  stage  of 
action  after  another  ;  but  the  more  man  pursues  it  the  more  it 
flies  away  from  him,  he  cannot  get  up  to  it,  reach  it,  or  grasp 
it.  It  is  a  will-of-the-wisp,  which  ever  retreats,  as  the  pursuer 
advances.  What  the  poet  asserts  then  is  that  self-disapproba- 
tion, a  consciousness  of  sin,  "  self-contempt  and  remorse,"  he 
calls  it — cleaves  to  man  as  such,  to  the  race  ;  but  if  this  is  not 
to  assert  original  sin,  I  know  not  what  is. 

1  Queen  Mob,  iii.  p.  17.  2  Promethem,  Act  n.  Sc.  4,  p.  216. 


1 60  Original  Sin  asserted  by 

Thus  again : — 

"  Monarch  of  Gods  and  Demons  and  all  Spirits 
But  one,  who  throng  these  bright  and  rolling  worlds, 
Which  Thou  and  I  alone  of  living  things 
Behold  with  sleepless  eyes  !  regard  this  earth, 
Made  multitudinous  with  thy  slaves,  whom  Thou 
Requitest  for  knee-worship,  prayer,  and  praise, 
With  fear,  and  self-contempt,  and  barren  hope." * 

Here  again  is  the  same  complaint — that  self-contempt  is 
annexed  to  human  nature.  It  is  the  poet's  term  for  that  self- 
disapprobation  which  figures  as  a  law  of  c'onscience  so  promi- 
nently in  the  language  of  St.  Paul. 

It  must  be  observed  indeed  that  when  Shelley  makes  this 
assertion  of  original  sin,  he  does  not  make  it  in  the  spirit  and 
temper  of,  or  in  concurrence  with,  the  philosophy  of  Scripture. 
Shelley's  fierce  and  vehement  fatalism  makes  sin  not  only  a 
part  of  this  world,  but  actually  a  part  of  God.  Our  nature 
inherits  it,  not  only  as  something  inherent  in  itself,  but  as 
something  inherent  in  the  universe  and  in  the  Divine  nature 
itself.  The  doctrine  of  original  sin  in  Scripture,  as  we  know, 
is  guarded  by  checks  on  all  sides  from  committing  the  Divine 
Being,  and  implicating  the  Divine  design  in  the  creation. 
Shelley  too  says  there  is  original  sin,  but  so  far  from  guarding 
or  checking  the  doctrine,  or  wishing  to  do  so,  he  includes  all 
the  universe  in  it,  together  with  its  author.  His  system  is  that 
absolute  Pantheism  which  deifies  and  incorporates  in  God  all 
fact  of  whatever  kind,  good  or  bad;  and  he  sees  in  the  universe 
an  absolute  chain  of  evil,  the  links  of  which  hang  on  inextric- 
ably to  each  other,  including  the  deceived  and  the  deceiver,  the 
corrupted  and  the  corrupter,  the  oppressed  and  the  oppressor, 
the  despot  and  the  slave,  all  in  one  dire  embrace  and  one  fatal 
coil  of  necessity  : — 

"  No  atom  of  this  turbulence  fulfils 
A  vague  and  unnecessitated  task, 
Or  acts  but  as  it  must  and  ought  to  act. 

Even  the  minutest  molecule  of  light 
Fulfils  its  destined,  though  invisible  work  : 

1  Prometheus,  Act  i.,  Opening  Speech. 


Worldly  Philosophers  and  Poets.  1 6 1 

The  Universal  Spirit  guides  :  nor  less 
When  merciless  ambition  or  mad  zeal 
Has  led  two  hosts  of  dupes  to  battle-field. 

Necessity,  thou  mother  of  the  world, 
the  poison  tree 

Beneath  whose  shade  all  life  is  withered  up, 
And  the  fair  oak  whose  leafy  dome  affords 
A  temple  where  the  vows  of  happy  love 
Are  registered,  are  equal  in  thy  sight."1 

Now,  then,  separate  from  this  philosophy  all  that  is  peculiar 
to  the  blasphemy  of  Pantheism  and  the  rebellion  of  fatalism ; 
separate  from  it  all  that  charge  against  the  Divine  Being,  of 
being  a  hard  master  whom  it  is  impossible  to  please,  and  who 
has  unjustly  implanted  in  man  this  root  of  evil,  whereby  man 
is  made  a  self- condemning  being,  displeasing  to  himself; 
eliminate  its  impiety,  and  you  have  in  the  residuum  the  recog- 
nition of  original  sin.  There  is  a  root  of  evil  in  the  world  and 
in  man,  and  though  it  is  sin  in  nature  it  is  still  in  the  poet's 
eyes  real  sin,  otherwise  he  would  not  care  about  it.  It  is  that 
very  consciousness  which  is  the  torment  and  the  grievance. 
He  finds  he  cannot  escape  the  consciousness  of  sin  by  appealing 
to  a  law  of  sin  that  does  not  deaden  or  nullify  it.  He  calls 
self-contempt  a  law  of  our  nature,  but  the  very  wrong  which 
he  attaches  to  it  still  implies  that  the  man  bows  to  the  verdict ; 
the  very  yoke  of  sin  assumes  the  fact  that  it  is  felt  as  such. 
That  is  to  say,  he  flings  to  the  winds  the  cardinal  argument  of 
the  Pelagian  and  the  rationalist,  that  sin  in  a  nature  cannot  be 
sin.  Were  the  sense  of  sin  a  false  sense,  were  it  a  deception, 
he  would  not  mind  it ;  it  is  because  it  is  a  true  sense  that  it 
frets  and  irritates,  and  embitters  and  envenoms.  And  so  the 
other  great  poet,  though  he  regards  sin  as  a  law,  shows  obviously 
enough,  and  by  sufficiently  loud  demonstrations,  that  he  does 
not  regard  it  as  a  mock  sensation. 

We  have  thus,  while  examining  the  sentiment  and  feeling 
of  one  remarkable  infidel  school  of  poetry,  had  before  us  an 
extraordinary  and  striking  phenomenon,  namely,  a  great  and  un- 
conscious testimony  borne  by  that  school  to  the  profound  oracle 

1  Queen  Mob,  vi.  pp.  32,  33. 
L 


1 62     Original  Sin  asserted  by  Philosophers  and  Poets. 

which  speaks  out  of  the  sanctuary  of  Scripture.  Throwing 
aside  their  collateral  points  of  view,  they  agree  with  the  voice 
of  inspiration,  in  declaring  a  root  of  evil  and  corruption  in  man 
which  is  involved  in  an  abyss  of  mystery.  And  it  may  be  said 
that  this  sad  and  painful  mystery  is  a  considerable  part  of  the 
inspiration  of  their  poetry — of  the  serious  and  strong-feeling 
part  of  it.  It  is  viewed  indeed  as  an  inexplicable  injustice, 
which  demands  their  protest  and  indignant  complaint,  but  still 
it  is  there,  and  though  they  complain  of  it  they  cannot  rid 
their  own  conscience  of  it.  It  is  indeed  remarkable  to  see  such 
a  theme  of  poetry.  Other  great  poets  have  taken  the  heroic  for 
their  subject.  The  great  medieval  poet  took  for  his  subject  the 
last  Judgment  on  Man,  and  our  own  poet  took  the  first  Judg- 
ment on  Man.  But  the  subject  of  these  two  great  modern  poets 
which  penetrates  their  mind,  and  runs  through  all  their 
thought,  is  original  evil — the  sin  of  nature  and  of  the  world,  in 
which  all  present  visible  existence  is  implicated. 

There  is  thus  something  in  St.  Paul  which  is  ever  fresh  and 
never  can  be  obsolete,  which  is  in  sympathy  with  the  modern 
intellect  as  well  as  the  old  mind  of  the  Church.  New  schools  of 
thought,  new  inspirations  of  poetry,  unconsciously  acknowledge 
him,  and  he  is  a  living  oracle  equal  to  all  ages  of  the  world. 


^.—PERFECTIBILITY. 


[In  the  Lent  Term  of  1874,  Dr.  Mozley  gave  a  Course  of  Lec- 
tures to  Graduates — delivered  in  his  study — on  the  three  great 
controversies  conducted  and  finished  by  St.  Augustine ;  the  Mani- 
chsean,  the  Pelagian,  and  the  Donatist;  the  first  of  which — The 
Manichceans  and  the  Jewish,  Fathers — concludes  the  volume  of 
Lectures  on  the  Old  Testament,  delivered  in  1875.  The  series  being 
mainly  occupied  with  the  subjects  treated  in  the  author's  Augus- 
tinian  doctrine  of  Predestination,  and  illustrated  by  frequent  extracts 
from  that  exhaustive  work,  was  not  designed  for  publication,  but 
one  Lecture  dealing  with  the  view  of  Perfectibility  held  by  the 
great  founder  of  Methodism  is  not  open  to  this  objection,  and  is 
therefore  given  here,  introduced  by  a  portion  of  the  previous 
lecture  on  the  Pelagian  doctrine  of  Perfectibility  as  refuted  by  St. 
Augustine.] 


THE  absolute  power  which  the  Pelagian  set  up  of  man  to 
act  without  sin,  and  be  morally  perfect,  was  evidently  a  fiction, 
based  on  an  abstract  idea  and  not  on  the  experienced  faculty  of 
free-will ;  and  when  he  followed  with  his  list  of  perfect  men,  he 
simply  trifled,  and  showed  how  absurd,  fantastic,  and  unsub- 
stantial his  position  was.  Human  nature  is  too  seriously  alive 
to  the  law  of  sin  under  which  it  at  present  acts,  not  to  feel  the 
mockery  of  such  assertions.  Every  one  knows  immediately 
that  if  these  men  were  perfect,  they  were  dolls  and  not  men  ; 
they  had  not  the  passions,  the  impulses,  the  forces  and  wants  of 
humanity ;  that  action  was  in  them  a  totally  different  thing 
from  what  it  is  in  the  mankind  of  experience,  and  was  without 
the  stimulus  and  motive  which  produces  action  in  the  real 
man.  In  all  real  men  the  same  vigorous  impulse  which  is 
essential  to  strong  action,  is  also  sure  to  go  beyond  the  mark, 
and  engender  more  or  less  of  disorder.  It  is,  practically  speak- 


164  Pelagian  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

ing,  impossible  to  help  these  excesses,  greater  or  less,  and  dis- 
turbances which  accompany  action.  Nobody  does  exactly  what 
he  ought,  nothing  more  or  less.  Every  one  leaves  the  region 
of  action  with  a  sense  of  sin  in  his  mind  ;  he  has  gone  further, 
or  he  has  stopped  short ;  he  halted  here,  he  was  precipitate 
there.  "  It  takes  a  great  many  particulars,"  says  the  author  of 
the  Religio  Medici,  "  to  make  a  good  action."  A  good  action  is 
presented  to  our  mind  at  first  as  much  a  unity  as  the  number 
1  in  Arithmetic ;  but  if  we  once  examine  it,  it  turns  into  a 
thousand  things.  In  this  intricate  labyrinth  of  motions,  who 
is  not  conscious  of  distinct  faults  ?  If  a  man  says  he  is  fault- 
less, we  do  not  know  what  he  means ;  it  is  an  unintelligible 
assertion ;  action  is  necessary  for  man,  and  all  the  modes  we 
have  experience  of  are  connected  with  faults,  slide  into  faults, 
and  go  out  into  what  is  a  declination  from  the  straight  line. 

If  such  an  assertion  of  sinlessness,  lying  within  the  natural 
power  of  man,  had  any  scope  or  tendency  beyond  the  mere 
boast  of  it,  it  tended  to  a  Socinian  morality.  People  must 
suppose  that  if  this  perfect  state  were  in  the  natural  power  of 
the  will,  it  must  be  exemplified  not  with  such  absolute  match- 
less rarity ;  that  it  is  an  instance  of  a  power  which  exists  in 
nature,  and  that  when  a  power  exists  regularly  in  nature,  it 
may  be  expected  to  come  out  in  a  certain  number  of  cases ;  how 
many  we  cannot  say  beforehand,  but  in  a  sufficient  number  to 
answer  to  the  expectation  which  we  form  when  we  know  that 
the  facts  in  question  spring  out  of  the  operation  of  a  natural 
principle ;  it  is  a  human  characteristic ;  everybody  has  the 
source  of  it  within  him.  We  might  therefore  not  unreason- 
ably expect  that  the  quality  of  perfection  would  not  be  confined 
to  Enoch  and  Melchisedek,  and  a  few  patriarchs ;  that  it  will 
have  its  instances  in  all  generations  ;  nay,  and  that  these 
instances  would  not  be  wholly  wanting  in  number.  It  is  difficult 
to  see  upon  what  reason  we  can  impose  any  rigid  limit  upon  the 
number  of  examples  of  it.  Thus  it  ought  not  to  surprise  or 
startle  us  if  we  met  several  perfect  men  in  course  of  a  morn- 
ing's walk  ;  if  three  or  four  sat  opposite  to  us  at  a  party,  or  we 
were  between  two  sinless  men  in  a  railway  carriage,  or  in  a 
public  room  ;  it  ought  not  to  astonish  us  if  there  were  several 


Pelagian  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  165 

perfect  men  in  the  House  of  Commons,  several  on  the  London 
Exchange,  several  in  the  large  Corporations.  This,  if  we  retain 
the  old  religious  sense  of  the  word  perfection,  would  be  a  rather 
astonishing  fact.  But  if  we  invent  a  new  sense  of  perfection — 
if  we  make  it  mean  a  high  state  of  public  virtue,  an  exemplary 
discharge  of  a  man's  social  relations,  an  eminent  possession  of 
the  useful  and  philanthropical  class  of  good  qualities — then 
such  perfection  is  not  impossible  as  a  largely  prevailing  charac- 
teristic, even  though  springing  entirely  from  the  force  of  the 
human  will.  The  general  tendency  of  the  position  of  the 
Pelagians  was  to  a  secular  and  Socinian  idea  of  perfection.  If 
this  moral  condition  was  simply  a  natural  growth,  and  came  by 
the  law  of  nature,  as  applying  to  the  will,  then  a  considerable 
quantity  of  persons  of  this  condition  was  to  be  anticipated  ;  but 
if  a  considerable  quantity  of  perfect  men  were  to  be  expected, 
then  it  must  be  perfection  in  this  lower  sense,  and  with  a 
Socinian  interpretation  explaining  it. 

The  theology  of  the  early  ages  is  not  altogether  free  from 
that  superficial  view  of  the  law  of  sin,  which  maintains  that 
it  can  be  shaken  off  in  this  life  by  remarkable  saints,  who  can 
attain  to  a  freedom  altogether  from  sin.  It  was  a  conception 
of  the  law  of  sin  which  approaches  to  a  childish  one — thinking 
that  this  deep  root  of  sin  in  which  human  nature  was  founded 
could  ever  be  extracted  out  of  it,  leaving  human  nature 
behind  it.  Writers  speak  of  perfect  men  as  if  sin  could  be 
drawn  out  of  man  without  any  radical  revolution  in  his 
nature,  leaving  him  just  what  he  was  before,  sin  only  being 
taken  away.  But  this  removal  is  such  an  utter  change  in 
man,  that  one  does  not  know  how  one  can  contemplate  it,  but 
in  accompaniment  with  a  totally  different  and  new  condition 
of  his  whole  being. 

Augustine's  view  was  a  great  modification  of  this  assertion, 
and  expressed  itself  rather  in  suggesting  possibilities,  and  pro- 
posing questions  on  the  subject,  than  in  any  actual  assertion. 
First  he  denied  absolutely  and  in  toto  that  any  one  of  the  human 
race  has  been  or  can  be  without  sin  from  the  first,  all  being 
born  in  sin ;  and  that  the  only  question  is  whether  some  have 
not  attained  to  sinlessness  in  the  course  of  their  lives.  Non 


1 66  Pelagian  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

legitur  sine  peccato  esse  nisi  Filius  Hominis.1  Second,  he 
denied  that  anybody  had  in  fact  attained  to  a  sinless  state  in 
the  course  of  his  life,  and  as  change  from  a  sinful  state.  Si 
autem  quaeratur  utrum  sit,  rnagis  credo  Scripturse  dicenti,  Ne 
intres  in  judicium,  etc.2  "If  we  collect,"  he  says,  "into  one 
assembly  all  the  saintly  men  and  saintly  women  who  have  ever 
lived,  would  they  not  with  one  voice  cry  out,  '  If  we  say  we 
have  no  sin  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us'?": 
Having  got  this  fact  he  then  shuts  up  the  question  in  this 
dilemma,  in  which  he  destroys  and  refutes  altogether  the  sup- 
position that  they  could  make  this  confession  humbly,  but  not 
truly.  "  These  men  do  not  make  it  a  part  of  humility  to  speak 
falsehood.  But  either  way  they  have  sin.  If  they  say  this  truly, 
they  have  sin,  because  they  say  they  have  sin,  and  the  truth  is 
in  them.  If  they  say  this  falsely,  they  have  sin  too,  because 
the  truth  is  not  in  them."4  He  reserves,  however,  the  liberty 
of  excepting  the  Virgin  Mary  from  this  general  assertion, — 
"De  qua,  propter  honorem  Domini,  nullam  prorsus,  cum  de 
peccatis  agitur,  haberi  volo  quaestionem."5  Thirdly,  though  he 
denied  the  fact,  he  admitted  the  possibility  of  attaining  to  a 
sinless  state  in  this  life,  but  this  possibility  is  through  the 
Divine  grace  or  power,  and  through  a  miraculous  exertion  of 
that  power.  "  Et  ideo  ejus  perfectionem  etiam  in  hac  vita  esse 
possibilem  negare  non  possumus,  quia  omnia  possibilia  sunt 
Deo."6  He  denied  any  example  of  perfection  having  existed, 
and  yet  he  maintained  the  possibility  of  it :  "  Ecce  quemad- 
modum  sine  exemplo  est  in  hominibus  perfecta  justitia,  et 
tamen  impossibilis  non  est."7  "  Fierit  enini  si  tanta  voluntas 
adhiberetur  quanta  sufficit  tantai  rei/'8  "Let  them,"  he  says 
again,  "if  they  can,  find  any  one  living  to  whom  God  has  not 
something  to  pardon.  Truly  they  cannot ;  yet  it  is  by  no  means 
to  be  said  that  in  God  there  is  not  the  power  of  so  assisting  the 
human  will,  that  not  only  that  portion  which  is  of  faith,  but 
also  that  according  to  which  we  shall  live  in  eternity,  can  be 
fulfilled  in  us."9  Fourthly,  Augustine  thinks  that  to  assert 

1  De  Perfect.  Just.  n.  29.  6  De  Spiritu  et  Litera,  n.  7. 

2  Pecc.  Merit.  2.  8.  7  fbid.  n.  67. 

3  De  Nat.  et  Grat.  n.  42.  8  Ibid.  n.  63. 

4  Ibid.  6  Ibid.  9  Ibid.  n.  66. 


Pelagian  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  167 

that  there  have  been  persons  in  this  life  who  have  attained 
to  the  sinless  state  though  an  error  is  a  venial  error,  an  error 
as  to  fact  rather  than  to  doctrine  :  "  Quinetiam  si  nemo  est  aut 
fuit,  aut  erit,  quod  magis  credo,  tali  puritate  perfectus ;  et  tarn  en 
esse  aut  f uisse  aut  fore  defenditur  et  putatur,  non  inultum  erratur 
nee  perniciose  cum  quadam  quis  benevolentia  fallitur  :  si  tamen 
qui  [hoc]  putat  seipsum  talem  esse  non  putet,  nisi  revera  et 
liquido  talem  se  esse  perspexerit 1 — an  excellent  piece  of  advice, 
but  one  which  does  not  throw  much  light  on  the  doctrinal  ques- 
tion. Again,  "  whether  there  has  been  or  is  or  can  be,"  he  says, 
"  in  this  world,  any  one  living  so  justly  as  to  be  wholly  without 
sin,  is  a  point  which  can  be  left  a  question  among  true  and 
pious  Christians.  Yet  any  one  is  foolish  who  doubts  that  there 
can  be  after  this  life"  .  .  .  [Nobody  disputed  this,  and  therefore 
the  assertion  is  not  to  the  purpose.]  "  But  I  do  not  wish/'  he 
adds,  "  to  raise  a  dispute  even  about  this  life.  For  though  I 
cannot  understand  in  any  other  sense  the  text,  '  No  flesh  shall 
be  justified  in  thy  sight '  and  others  like  it,  still  would  that  it 
could  be  shown  that  these  texts  could  be  otherwise  understood."2 
Both  St.  Augustine  and  Pelagius  had  abundant  power  in 
their  respective  theories  to  produce  individual  perfection  in 
this  life  :  the  one  an  unlimited  strength  in  the  human  will,  the 
other  an  unlimited  divine  power  or  grace.  But  Pelagius  in  his 
assertion  of  human  perfectibility  was  met  by  a  fact  which  he 
could  not  oppose — the  fact,  namely,  how  very  few  there  were  to 
whom  that  attribute  could  with  any  show  of  probability  be 
allowed.  Thus  common  sense  withdrew  what  theory  maintained. 
Yet  he  stuck  to  his  theory,  and  dealt  with  common  sense  as  he 
could  :  he  upheld  his  theory  by  the  assertion  of  an  unlimited 
will,  and  deferred  to  common  sense  by  contenting  himself  with 
a  small  list  of  perfect  men ;  whereas  either  his  theory  strictly 
implied  and  carried  a  much  larger  list  of  men,  or  the  smallness 
of  his  list  confuted  his  theory  of  an  unlimited  will.  Augustine, 
again,  was  provided  with  ample  means  for  insuring  human 
perfection  in  this  life,  by  the  infinite  Divine  Power  which  had 
direct  control  of  the  human  will,  and  which  could  bend  it  to 
good.  But  when  he  came  to  examine  how  this  Divine  power 

1  De  Spiritu  et  Lit.  n.  3.  2  De  Nat.  e  Grat.  n.  70. 


1 68  Pelagian  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility . 

acted  on  fact,  and  what  was  its  matter-of-fact  relations  to  the 
human  will,  he  saw  that  the  Divine  Being  did  not  in  fact  use 
His  power  to  produce  this  effect :  and  that  though  the  power 
existed  to  produce  any  amount  of  perfection,  as  a  matter  of 
fact  the  perfection  itself  did  not  exist.  He  drew  in  then,  as 
Pelagius  did,  only  with  much  greater  decision  and  more  of 
principle.  He  admitted  a  strong  and  rooted  impediment  to 
perfection  in  human  nature — an  impediment  which  resided  in 
the  nature  in  its  present  state.  He  talked,  indeed,  of  the 
possibility  of  it,  and  deferred  to  old  language  which  had  been 
used  by  Fathers  before  his  time;  but  he  denied  the  fact  past, 
present,  or  to  come ;  and  so  left  the  possibility  of  it  a  name 
rather  than  a  reality.  He  even  found  a  kind  of  reason  for  it, 
in  the  admirable  effect  of  the  sense  of  sin  upon  the  character — 
that  it  created  a  humility  which  compensated  for  the  source 
and  occasion  of  it,  and  founded  a  character  which  was  a  sort 
of  perfection  based  on  imperfection. 


169 


.— MODERN  DOCTRINE  OF  PERFECTIBILITY. 

THE  subject  of  perfectibility  in  this  life  was  discussed  at 
some  Conferences  of  the  early  Methodist  Society  in  1760,  and 
subsequently;  and  we  have  contained  in  the  Eeports  of  them  the 
opinions  of  John  Wesley  upon  Christian  Perfection,  as  a  state 
and  habit  of  mind  capable  of  being,  and  actually  being,  arrived  at 
in  this  life,  by  a  certain  proportion  of  Christians.  It  was  indeed 
unanimously  agreed  that  every  one  must  have  this  spiritual  per- 
fection, that  is  to  say,  entire  sanctification,  at  the  hour  of  death  ; 
that  it  was  necessary  to  be  purified  from  all  sin  at  the  time  of 
death,  and  that  there  was  Scripture  promise-  for  this.  But 
while  this  was  held  to  be  necessary,  it  was  also  maintained  that 
a  state  of  perfection  was  possible  at  any  time  of  a  person's  life  ; 
and  that  that  state  might  be  entered  upon  instantaneously,  if  it 
pleased  God  to  bestow  the  gift  by  an  immediate  act ;  but  that 
it  was  more  generally  a  gradual  process.  The  way  in  which  it 
is  entered  upon,  when  it  is  gradually  attained,  is  described  as 
follows.  The  first  step  is  the  sense  of  justification,  "  knowing 
they  are  justified  freely  through  His  blood  they  have  peace  with 
God  through  Jesus  Christ.  ...  In  this  peace  they  remain  for 
days,  weeks,  or  months,  and  commonly  suppose  they  shall  not 
know  war  any  more,  till  some  of  their  old  enemies,  their  bosom 
sins  .  .  .  assault  them  again,  and  thrust  sore  at  them,  that 
they  may  fall.  Then  arises  fear  that  they  shall  not  endure 
to  the  end."  Then  the  Lord  comforts  them.  Then  together 
with  this  comfort  "for  the  first  time  do  they  see  the  ground  of 
their  heart,  which  God  at  first  would  not  disclose  unto  them, 
lest  the  soul  should  fail  before  Him,  and  the  spirit  which  He 
had  made.  Now  they  see  all  the  hidden  abominations  there." 
Then  there  arises  an  "  inexpressible  hunger  after  a  full  renewal 
in  His  image,  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness.  Then  God  is 


i  70  Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

mindful  of  the  desire  of  them  that  fear  Him,  and  gives  them  a 
single  eye  and  a  pure  heart ;  He  stamps  upon  them  His  own 
image  and  superscription,  He  createth  them  anew  in  Jesus 
Christ,  .  .  .  and  bringeth  them  to  the  rest  which  remaineth 
for  the  people  of  God."1  Such  are  the  steps  to  a  state  of 
perfection.  The  state  itself  is  thus  described  :  "  They  are  freed 
from  self-will,  as  desiring  nothing  but  the  holy  and  perfect 
will  of  God ;  not  supplies  in  want,  not  ease  in  pain,  nor  life, 
nor  death,  nor  any  creature,  but  continually  crying  in  their 
inmost  soul,  Father,  thy  will  be  done.  They  are  freed  from 
evil  thoughts  so  that  they  cannot  enter  into  them,  no  not 
for  a  moment.  Aforetime,  when  an  evil  thought  came  in,  they 
looked  up  and  it  vanished  away.  But  now  it  does  not  come 
in,  there  being  no  room  for  it  in  a  soul  which  is  full  of  God. 
They  are  free  from  wanderings  in  prayer.  Whensoever  they 
pour  out  their  thoughts  in  a  more  immediate  manner  before 
God,  they  have  no  thought  of  anything  past,  or  absent,  or  to  come, 
but  of  God  alone.  In  times  past  they  had  wandering  thoughts 
which  darted  in,  which  yet  fled  away  like  smoke ;  but  now  that 
smoke  does  not  rise  at  all.  They  have  no  fear  or  doubt  as  to 
their  state  in  general,  or  as  to  any  particular  action.  .  .  .  They 
are  in  one  sense  freed  from  temptations,  for  though  numberless 
temptations  fly  about,  yet  they  trouble  them  not.  At  all  times 
their  souls  are  even  and  calm,  their  hearts  are  steadfast  and 
immoveable."2 

A  state  of  perfection  is  thus  a  state  of  sinlessness — of 
deliverance  from  inward  as  well  as  from  outward  sin.  Simply 
not  to  commit  sin  is  the  privilege  of  a  babe  in  Christ,  but  to  be 
without  inward  sin  is  a  very  high  privilege. 

But  now  is  there  any  set-off  of  human  infirmities  and  defects 
in  these  persons,  which,  though  not  sins — for  they  are  by  the 
supposition  freed  from  sins — still  interfere  with  the  impression 
which  this  perfection  makes  upon  others  ?  There  are  :  "  They 
are  not  perfect  in  knowledge,"  says  Wesley.  They  are  not  free 
from  ignorance,  no,  nor  from  mistakes.  We  are  no  more  to 
expect  anything  living  to  be  infallible  than  to  be  omniscient. 
They  are  not  free  from  infirmities,  such  as  weakness  or  slow- 

1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  381,  ed.  1829.  2  Ibid.  p.  379. 


Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  1 7 1 

ness  of  understanding,  irregular  quickness  or  heaviness  of 
imagination.  Such  are  impropriety  of  language,  ungracefulness 
of  pronunciation,  to  which  one  might  add  a  thousand  nameless 
defects,  "  either  in  conversation  or  behaviour." 

This  list  of  extra-moral  faults  seems  to  have  produced  such 
a  strong  impression  on  the  mind  of  Gibson,  Bishop  of  London, 
that  he  would  appear  to  have  decided  that  such  a  list  of  ex- 
ceptions to  Perfection  was  enough  to  make  it  a  very  attainable 
condition.  "  He  asked  me,"  says  Wesley,  "  what  I  meant  by 
perfection.  I  told  him  without  any  disguise  or  reserve.  When 
I  ceased  speaking  he  said,  'Mr.  Wesley,  if  this  be  all  you  mean, 
publish  it  to  all  the  world.'"  It  is  possible  that  Bishop 
Gibson  may  have  considered  that  this  list  of  defects  practically 
involved  some  that  were  great  disturbances  to  the  completeness 
of  perfection ;  and  that  therefore  Perfection  might  be  allowed, 
with  this  list  of  irregularities  to  weight  it,  without  conceding 
anything  which  a  Christian  need  object  to  conceding.  Still  it 
may  be  doubted  whether,  when  Wesley  allowed  this  list  of 
imperfections  and  defects,  he  meant  to  concede  quite  enough 
deduction  from  perfection  to  lower  it  into  being  an  attain- 
able state  in  the  common  judgment  of  Christians.  A  slow 
understanding,  a  heaviness  of  imagination,  and  an  ungrace- 
ful pronunciation  can  hardly  be  called  sins ;  and  therefore 
if  the  admission  is  made  that  a  man  in  a  state  of  per- 
fection may  still  possibly  labour  under  these  defects,  no 
great  admission  is  made.  Bishop  Gibson,  however,  might 
possibly  think  that  an  unlimited  dispensation  for  making 
mistakes  was  a  dangerous  liberty  to  concede  to  the  Per- 
fect man,  and  that  in  practice  such  a  licence  did  border 
upon  what  jarred  with  our  ideas  of  perfection.  For  how  much 
of  conduct  depends  upon  a  man  forming,  to  begin  with,  a  sound 
judgment  on  the  facts  of  the  case  ?  Thus  a  man  in  a  state  of 
perfection  may  blame  another  wrongly,  and  use  strong  lan- 
guage, upon  the  supposition  of  a  mistake  which  he  has 
unblamably  made  as  to  some  action  of  the  person  censured,  or 
as  to  his  character  generally.  Still  if  these  mistakes  are  often 
made,  and  if  the  privilege  is  used  beyond  a  certain  point,  it 
must  be  seen  that  the  impression  that  will  be  made  on  other 


172  Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

peoples'  minds  will  not  be  favourable  to  the  belief  in  the  man's 
perfection.  The  question  of  mistakes  is  more  particularly  dis- 
cussed under  the  form  of  question  and  answer. 

Q. — "  What  is  Christian  Perfection  ? 

A. — The  loving  God  with  all  our  heart,  mind,  soul,  and 
strength.  This  implies  that  no  wrong  temper,  none  contrary 
to  love,  remains  in  the  soul ;  and  that  all  the  thoughts,  words, 
and  actions  are  governed  by  pure  love. 

Q. — Do  you  affirm  that  this  perfection  excludes  all  infir- 
mities, ignorance,  and  mistake  ? 

A. — I  continually  affirm  quite  the  contrary,  and  always 
have  done  so. 

Q. — But  how  can  every  thought,  word,  and  work  be 
governed  by  pure  love,  and  the  man  be  subject  the  same  time 
to  ignorance  and  mistake?" 

"A. — I  see  no  contradiction  here:  a  man  may  be  filled 
with  pure  love,  and  still  be  liable  to  mistake.  ...  I  believe 
this  to  be  a  natural  consequence  of  the  soul's  dwelling  in  flesh 
and  blood.  .  .  .  We  may  carry  this  thought  further.  A  mistake 
in  judgment  may  possibly  occasion  a  mistake  in  practice. 
For  instance,  Mr.  De  Eenty's  mistake  touching  the  nature  of 
mortification  arising  from  prejudice  of  education.  .  .  .  Every 
one  may  make  a  mistake  as  long  as  he  lives.  Yet  where 
every  word  and  action  springs  from  love,  such  a  mistake  is  not 
properly  a  sin.  However  it  cannot  bear  the  rigour  of  God's 
justice,  but  needs  the  atoning  Mood.  .  .  Every  mistake  is  a  trans- 
gression of  the  perfect  law  :  therefore  every  mistake,  were  it  not 
for  the  Blood  of  the  Atonement,  would  expose  to  eternal  dam- 
nation. .  .  .  The  most  perfect  .  .  .  may  they  say  for  themselves 
—Forgive  us  our  trespasses.  .  .  .  This  easily  accounts  for  what 
might  seem  otherwise  unaccountable,  namely,  that  those  who 
are  not  offended  when  we  speak  of  the  highest  degree  of  love, 
yet  will  not  hear  of  living  without  sin.  The  reason  is  they 
know  all  men  are  liable  to  mistake.  .  .  .  But  they  do  not  know, 
or  do  not  observe,  that  this  is  not  sin,  if  love  is  the  sole 
principle  of  action."1 

This  was  the  judgment  of  all  the  brethren  who  met  at 
1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  pp.  394,  395. 


Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  173 

Bristol  in  1758.  The  question  whether  man  could  be  perfect 
or  not  in  this  life  was  thus  reduced  to  the  question  whether 
mistakes  are  sins  or  not.  All  people  made  mistakes,  but  it 
was  maintained  that  it  was  improper  to  call  mistakes  sins. 
"  Mistakes/'  it  was  said,  "  and  whatever  infirmities  necessarily 
flow  from  the  corruptible  state  of  the  body,  are  no  way  contrary 
to  love ;  nor,  therefore,  in  the  scriptural  sense,  are  they  sin.  .  .  . 
They  are  deviations  indeed  from  the  perfect  law,  and  conse- 
quently need  an  atonement ;  yet  they  are  not  properly  sins.  .  .  ." x 
Nevertheless,  though  perfection  admits  of  mistakes,  and  mis- 
takes are  not  properly  sins,  still  Wesley  informs  us  that,  in  order 
to  be  quite  safe,  he  never  speaks  of  "  sinless  perfection."  He 
goes  a  little  further  into  the  question  :  Mistakes  are  involuntary 
transgressions.  Involuntary  transgressions  "  need  the  atoning 
blood,"  but  are  improperly  called  sins.  "  I  believe  a  person  filled 
with,  the  love  of  God  is  still  liable  to  involuntary  transgressions. 
Such  transgressions  you  may  call  sins  if  you  please :  I  do  not, 
for  the  reasons  above  mentioned."  And  he  concludes  with  a 
judgment  in  which  he  mediates  between  the  two  sides  on 
this  question.  "  Let  those  who  do  not  call  them  sins,  never 
think  that  themselves  or  any  other  persons  are  in  such  a  state 
as  that  they  can  stand  before  infinite  justice  without  a  Media- 
tor. Let  those  who  do  call  them  so,  beware  how  they  confound 
these  defects  with  sins  properly  so  called."1  It  is  evident 
throughout  these  observations  that  Wesley  is  taking  part  with 
both  sides,  giving  each  encouragement  to  think  that  he  belongs 
to  it,  and  so  retaining  a  hold  upon  both.  With  one  side,  he 
says,  a  man  may  be  in  such  a  state  in  this  life  as  to  have  only 
involuntary  transgressions  ;  with  the  other  side  he  says,  he  will 
still  have  transgressions  which  require  the  atoning  blood  of 
Christ :  with  one  side  he  says,  he  will  not  have  sins ;  with 
another  side  he  says,  he  will  -have  what  may  be  called  sins, 
though  he  does  not  admit  quite  properly ;  with  one  side  he 
admits  perfection ;  with  the  other  he  does  not  admit  sinless 
perfection.  It  is  plain,  however,  that  a  complicated  state  of 
the  question  like  this,  full  of  artificial  and  fine  distinctions, 
and  of  balks  to,  and  checks  upon,  both  sides,  is  not  one  in 

1  Ibid.  vol.  xi.  p.  396. 


174  Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

which  a  doctrine  of  perfection  can  properly  be  put  forward. 
A  doctrine  of  perfection  ought  to  be  a  simple  transparent 
doctrine,  otherwise  it  is  not  worth  having.  It  is  not  worth 
while  calling  a  man  a  perfect  man,  only  to  be  told  immediately 
he  commits  innumerable  transgressions  which  require  the 
atoning  blood  of  Christ  to  efface  :  perfection  must  disappoint 
if  it  cannot  be  taken  in  its  obvious  sense  ; — if  though  it  does 
not  admit  of  sins,  it  admits  of  what  may  be  improperly  called 
sins ;  if  though  it  is  perfection,  still  it  is  dangerous  to  call  it 
sinless  perfection :  and  he,  Wesley,  always  cautiously  avoids 
calling  it  so.  This  may  be  a  very  diplomatic  and  sagacious 
settlement  of  a  controversy  which  has  broken  out  in  the 
Wesleyan  body,  threatening  a  disturbance,  and  requiring  the 
calming  and  settling  hand  of  a  religious  politician.  But  it  is 
impossible  that  such  a  perfection  as  that  which  raises  an  end- 
less discussion  upon  the  nature  of  the  transgressions  it  commits, 
— which,  though  not  properly  sins,  are  still  "deviations  from 
perfect  law,  and  need  an  atonement," — can  satisfy  the  aspira- 
tions of  those  who  want  a  real  perfection ;  while  it  offends  the 
scruples  of  others  who  deny  boldly  the  possibility  of  a  state  of 
perfection  in  this  life. 

We  see  the  distinction  here  between  Augustine's  judgment 
on  the  subject  of  Christian  perfection  in  this  life  and  Wesley's. 
Between  Augustine's  facts  and  Wesley's  facts  there  is  not  so 
much  difference.  One  would  like,  indeed,  to  know  what 
authority  Wesley  has  for  saying  that  a  man  can  arrive  at  a 
state  of  perfection  in  this  life,  in  which  he  only  makes  mistakes. 
The  great  experience  of  human  nature  certainly  is  that  there  is 
a  sort  of  positive  evil  in  human  nature,  which  works  in  the 
most  perfected  minds.  Wesley  may  say  this  is  involuntary 
working,  and  therefore  is  not  itself  sin  properly  so  called ;  but 
I  am  not  aware  that  the  working  is  so  involuntary  after  all, 
but  that  it  implicates  in  some  degree  the  responsibility  of  the 
person  himself.  Old  faults  continue  in  men,  they  may  be 
good  men,  they  may  be  saintly  men,  but  we  certainly  see  that 
natural  frailties  continue,  and  they  continue  with  a  certain 
identification  of  the  man  with  them ;  and  his  errors  are  not  all 
mere  mistakes,  but  have  something  wrong  about  them.  Yet 


Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  175 

on  the  whole  one  may  say  that  Augustine's  facts  and  Wesley's 
facts  are  much  the  same.  But  what  a  difference  in  the  judg- 
ment which  is  formed  upon  them !  Augustine,  with  a  slight 
reserve  occasioned  by  deference  to  former  writers,  says  that 
what  these  facts  amount  to,  is  that  human  nature  is  under  a  law 
of  sin,  and  cannot  wholly  get  free  from  it.  Wesley  draws 
distinctions  between  perfection  and  sinless  perfection,  between 
transgressions  which  require  the  blood  of  Christ  to  atone  for 
them,  and  sins.  His  judgment  on  the  question  is  an  obscure 
and  perplexed  one,  and  obviously  tempered  by  diplomacy. 

And  there  is  this  difference  between  Wesley's  and  Augus- 
tine's theory,  namely,  that  Augustine  regards  the  perfect  state 
in  this  life,  should  it  ever  be  realised,  as  a  miracle,  and  con- 
trary to  all  the  ordinary  laws  of  God's  working ;  Wesley  regards 
it  as  only  in  keeping  with,  and  consistently  carrying  out  the 
natural  growth  of  Christian  grace.  It  is  the  natural  conclusion 
of  the  proofs  of  sanctification.  In  the  Conference  of  1745,  it 
is  asked  when  does  inward  sanctification  begin?  And  the 
answer  is,  In  the  moment  a  man  is  justified.  From  that  time 
a  believer  gradually  dies  to  sin  and  grows  in  grace.  Yet  sin 
remains  in  him  till  he  is  sanctified  throughout. 

"  Q. — Is  this  ordinarily  given  till  a  little  before  death  ? 

A. — It  is  not  to  those  who  expect  it  no  sooner. 

Q. — But  may  we  not  expect  it  sooner  ?"* 

Here  the  perfect  state  is  made  a  necessity  a  little  before 
death,  and  as  naturally  to  belong  to  a  Christian  at  that  time, 
as  ordinary  sanctification  does  at  any  other  time.  The  perfect 
state,  instead  of  being  a  supernatural  fact,  as  it  figures  as  in 
Augustine's  view,  is  the  natural  ascent  of  every  Christian.  But 
upon  what  scriptural  evidence  does  this  supposition  rest  that 
every  Christian  must  be  perfect  before  he  dies?  Why  is  it 
necessary  that  people  should  be  perfect  just  before  they  die  ? 
What  is  the  meaning  or  sense  of  a  momentary  perfection  like 
this  ?  Is  it  that  they  must  be  prepared  for  heaven  ?  But  that 
need  not  be  here.  This  is  a  gratuitous  and  arbitrary  idea,  as 
if  God  could  not  supply  in  a  future  life  what  was  wanting  in 
this,  and  purify  the  soul  so  as  to  prepare  it  for  heaven.  It  is 

1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  387. 


176  Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

not  to  be  wondered   at,  that   having  made   a  perfect   state 
necessary  a  little  before  death,  it  should  have  occurred  to  the 
Methodist  that,  after  all,  this  was  a  very  arbitrary  time  to  have 
assigned  to  it ;  and  that,  if  universal  among  Christians  a  little 
before  death,  perfection  should  be  at  any  rate  rather  prevalent  at 
a  somewhat  earlier  date  in  life.    So  they  think  that  "  a  believer 
ought  to  come  daily  nearer  and  nearer  to  perfection,  that  he 
ought  to  be  continually  pressing  after  it,"  until  he  actually 
reaches  it,  which  of  course  he  will  do,  if  he  is  a  Christian  at  all, 
some  time  before  death,  but  which  it  is  better  he  should  do 
sooner.    "  Before  you  die,"  says  Wesley,  "  will  that  content  you  ? 
Nay,  but  ask  that  it  may  be  done  now,  to-day,  while  it  is  called 
to-day.  .  .  .    Certainly  to-day  is  His  time,  as  well  as  to-morrow. 
Make  haste,  man,  make  haste  I"1     This  is  a  coarse  application 
of  the  Scripture  precept  to  aim  at  perfection;  as  if  because 
you  aimed  at,  and  did  not  leave  off  aiming  at  it,  you  must 
therefore  be  lodged  in  it  some  time  while  you  are  alive  here ; 
and  had  the  right  to   say,  There,  now  you  are  perfect;  you 
have  been  aiming  at  it,  and  you  have  got  it.     Here  is  an 
argument  which  just  shows  the  rough  texture  of  the  fabric  of 
enthusiasm, — of  what  coarse  earthenware  it  is  composed.     It 
cannot  treat  any  subject  except  in  a  hard  technical  way,  and 
its  nights  and  extravagances  are  from  its  dry  shallowness.    The 
aim  at  perfection  goes  on  and  on ;  but  to  say  you  must  get  it 
at  last,  and  make  yourself  believe  you  have  got  it,  because  God 
would  not  expect  you  to  follow  after  it  unless  you  could  get 
it,  is  a  sort  of  bargaining  logic  which  is  utterly  out  of  place  in 
such  a  mysterious  matter.     Yet  when  the  Methodists  come  to 
deal  with  Perfection,  they  quite  forget  the  utterly  mystical 
state  of  being  which  it  must  be ;  that  it  must  be  a  contradic- 
tion to  all  known  states  of  mind  ;  they  deal  with  it  as  if  they 
could  map  it  out,  examine  it,  and  make  a  report  upon  it ;  they 
make  it  quite  common ;  they  append  it  to  their  system,  and 
make  it  follow  its  rules  ;  it  is  a  gift  of  God  which  is  received 
by  faith,  and  which  may  be  received  "  instantaneously  in  one 
moment ;  and  that  we  are  not  to  expect  it  at  death  only,  but 
at  every  moment;   that  now  is  the  accepted  time,  that  now 
is  the  day  of  salvation."2     Thus  they  sound  the  trumpet,  pro- 

1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  403.  "  Ibid.  p.  393. 


Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  177 

claiming  the  gift,  and  making  anybody  expect  it  in  his  own 
case.  It  is  his  right  as  a  Christian.  This  is  to  vulgarise  and 
degrade  the  very  standard  idea  of  perfection  altogether,  and 
convert  it  into  a  different  thing  from  that  which  Scripture  and 
moral  sense  pronounce  of  it. 

But  now  for  the  tests  of  Perfection  and  of  men  being  in 
the  Perfect  State.  It  appears  to  me  that  Wesley  is  very  unfair 
upon  the  criticising  public  in  the  case  of  perfect  men,  that  is, 
those  who  profess  to  have  entered  into  the  state  of  perfection.  It 
seems  to  me  that  the  public  have  a  right  to  require  a  good  deal 
from  perfect  men.  Yet  Wesley  is  always  checking  the  public 
in  its  demands,  and  forcing  his  perfect  men  upon  it ;  insisting 
on  their  swallowing  them  whole,  blindly,  and  suppressing 
remorselessly  any  suspicions  and  recalcitrations  which  may  be 
felt,  after  a  certain  number  of  tests  have  been  fulfilled  in  the 
opinion  of  the  persons  themselves.  Thus — 

"  Q- — When  may  a  person  judge  himself  to  have  attained  this? 

A. — When,  after  being  fully  convinced  of  inbred  sin  by  a 
far  deeper  and  clearer  conviction  than  that  he  experienced 
before  justification,  and  after  having  experienced  a  gradual 
mortification  of  it,  he  experiences  a  total  death  to  sin,  and  an 
entire  renewal  in  the  love  and  image  of  God,  so  as  to  rejoice 
evermore,  to  pray  without  ceasing,  and  in  everything  to  give 
thanks."1  Yes,  but  how  are  we  to  believe  that  all  this  has 
taken  place,  and  what  are  the  outward  signs  by  which  we 
are  to  judge  that  it  has  ?  Wesley  evades  this  question,  and 
still  refers  us  to  the  man's  own  testimony  to  himself.  A  man 
can  only  be  deceived,  he  says,  if  he  limits  his  attention  to 
some  of  these  points  ;  if  he  attends  to  them  all,  he  cannot  be. 
"  I  know  of  no  instance  of  a  person  attending  to  them  all,  and 
yet  deceived  in  this  matter,"  says  Wesley,  "  and  I  believe  there 
can  be  none  in  this  world." 2 

Wesley  is  indeed  wonderfully  content  with  assertions  on 
the  part  of  those  who  profess  to  be  perfect.  "  I  rejoice  that 
this  soul  is  happy  in  Christ.  I  rejoice  that  he  feels  no  unholy 
temper,  but  the  pure  love  of  God  continually." 

"  Q. — Is  there  no  danger,  then,  in  a  man  being  thus  deceived  ? 

1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  401.  a  Ibid.  p.  402. 

M 


1 78  Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

A. — Not  at  the  time  he  feels  no  sin;  so  long  as  he  feels 
nothing  but  love  animating  all  his  thoughts,  words,  and  actions, 
he  is  in  no  danger."1 

But  this  after  all  only  relates  to  the  man's  own  satisfaction 
as  to  the  fact.  What  is  to  satisfy  other  people  ?  I  see  no  answer 
given  to  this  question ;  no  test  given  by  which  other  people  are 
to  be  assured  that  certain  persons  are  in  a  state  of  perfection. 

"  Q. — How  should  we  treat  those  who  think  they  have 
attained  ? 

A. — Examine  them  candidly,  and  exhort  them  to   pray 

fervently  that  God  would  show  them  all  that  is  in  their  hearts 

.  .  .  with  the  most  earnest  exhortations  to  abound  in  every 

grace,  which  are  given  in  the  New  Testament  to  those  who 

are  in  the  highest  state  of  grace."2 

Others,  then,  are  not  obliged  to  believe  those  who  tell  them 
that  they  are  in  a  state  of  perfection  :  for  an  "  examination  "  of 
them  certainly  implies  a  right  to  doubt  their  assertion.  Wesley 
indeed  admits  that  whether  a  man  is  free  from  sin  and  perfect 
cannot  be  certainly  known  to  another. 

"  Q. — How  may  we  certainly  know  one  that  is  saved  from 
all  sin  ? 

A. — We  cannot  infallibly  know  one  that  is  thus  saved,  un- 
less it  should  please  God  to  endow  us  with  miraculous  discern- 
ment of  spirits."3 

Still  Wesley  protects  the  professors  of  perfection  with  great 
care  against  positive  doubt,  and  critical  remarks  upon  them. 

"  Q. — But  what  does  the  perfect  man  do  more  than  others  ? 

A. — Perhaps  nothing ;  so  may  the  Providence  of  God  have 
hedged  him  in  by  outward  circumstances :  perhaps  not  so 
much,  though  he  longs  to  spend  and  be  spent  for  God  .  .  . 

Q. — But  is  not  this  proof  against  him — I  feel  no  power 
either  in  his  words  or  prayer  ? 

A. — It  is  not ;  for  perhaps  that  is  your  own  fault."4 

Certainly  it  is  possible  it  may  be.  And  yet  why  is  a  man 
to  be  allowed  not  only  to  believe  himself  to  be  perfect,  which 
nobody  can  prevent  him  doing,  but  to  tell  others  that  he  is 
perfect,  and  divulge  his  belief  to  the  world,  unless  he  can  show 
some  signs  and  manifestations  of  so  high  a  state  ?  A  man  says 

1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  405.  'Ibid.  p.  403.  *  Ibid.  p.  398.  *  Ibid.  p.  400. 


Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  1 79 

he  is  perfect :  another  man  says — "  but  he  does  not  come  up  to 
my  idea  of  a  perfect  Christian."  Well,  and  that  is  a  very  natural 
observation  for  any  one  to  make  to  whose  idea  of  a  perfect 
Christian  he  does  not  come  up.  How  does  Wesley  meet  it  ? 
"  He  does  not  perhaps  come  up  to  your  idea ;  and  perhaps  no 
one  ever  did  or  ever  will  .  .  .  Scripture  perfection  is  pure  love, 
filling  the  heart  ...  If  your  idea  includes  anything  more  than 
this,  it  is  not  scriptural."1  But  the  critic  may  say,  My  idea  is 
no  more  than  this,  and  still  I  am  not  satisfied  with  him ;  he 
does  not  come  up  to  my  idea  of  a  man  whose  heart  is  filled  by 
pure  love.  Wesley,  however,  has  nothing  more  than  a  caution, 
which  is  half  a  rebuke,  for  the  critic.  He  supposes  him  to  be 
animated  by  jealousy  in  his  examination  of  the  case.  He 
says — "  Suppose  he  is  weighed  in  the  balance  and  found 
wanting,  is  this  a  matter  of  joy?2  Ought  we  not  rather  to 
grieve,  or  be  deeply  concerned,  to  let  our  eyes  run  down  with 
tears  ?"  And  though  he  says  we  cannot  infallibly  know  that  a 
man  is  perfect,  still,  he  adds,  "  we  apprehend  those  (meaning 
that  list  of  tests  to  which  we  have  referred)  would  be  sufficient 
proofs  to  any  reasonable  man,  and  such  as  would  leave 
little  room  to  doubt."  (1.)  Exemplary  conduct  for  a  certain 
time.  (2.)  If  he  could  give  a  distinct  account  of  the  time  and 
manner  wherein  the  change  was  wrought.  (3.)  If  his  subse- 
quent works  and  actions  were  holy  and  unblameable.3 

Upon  this  general  treatment  of  criticism  on  the  claims  of 
this  professor  of  perfection,  it  is  enough  to  say,  there  is  no  neces- 
sity why  those  men  should  divulge  the  secret  of  their  sinless 
state  ;  it  may  remain  a  secret  between  God  and  themselves ;  if 
then  they  make  it  public,  if  they  tell  others  about  it,  they  must 
expect  that  their  claims  to  this  high  and  privileged  state  should 
be  fully  examined.  And  therefore  a  strong  opinion  seems  to 
have  been  expressed  by  some  of  the  less  enthusiastic  members 
of  the  Methodist  body,  that  these  persons  should  keep  their 
high  and  gifted  condition  to  themselves,  and  not  divulge  it. 

"  Q. — But  would  it  not  be  better  to  be  entirely  silent,  not 
to  speak  of  it  at  all  ?" 

Wesley,  however,  discarded  immediately  and  would  not  hear 
of  this  yoke  of  silence.  It  was  quite  true  that  perfect  men  them- 
1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  401.  2  Ibid.  p.  405.  8  Ibid.  p.  398. 


1 80  Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

selves  might  suffer  from  the  disclosure  of  their  own  high  and 
singularly  privileged  state  to  the  world;  they  might  shrink 
from  the  publication  of  it ;  but  then  the  glory  of  God  must 
be  thought  of.  They  must  sacrifice  themselves  for  the  Divine 
honour,  which  would  be  advanced  so  largely,  and  gain  so  con- 
spicuous an  accession  to  itself,  as  soon  as  the  exalted  endow- 
ments of  these  men  were  known.  The  question  is  asked,  Would 
you  advise  him,  one  of  this  elevated  class,  to  speak  of  it,  and  the 
answer  is — He  could  hardly  refrain :  his  desire  to  declare 
the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord  would  carry  him  away  like  a 
torrent.  But  afterwards  he  might  shrink ;  and  then  it  would 
be  advisable  not  to  speak  of  it  to  them  who  know  not  God, 
nor  to  others  without  some  particular  reason.  But  if  he  had 
particular  reason  then  he  must  speak  of  it. 

"  A. — By  silence,  he  might  indeed  avoid  many  crosses 
which  will  ensue  necessarily,  if  he  simply  declares  even  among 
believers  what  God  has  wrought  in  his  soul.  If,  therefore,  such 
a  one  were  to  confer  with  flesh  and  blood,  he  would  be  entirely 
silent.  But  this  could  not  be  done  with  a  clear  conscience,  for 
undoubtedly  he  ought  to  speak.  Men  do  not  light  a  candle 
to  put  it  under  a  bushel ;  much  less  does  the  all- wise  God. 
He  does  not  raise  such  a  monument  of  His  power  and  love  to 
hide  it  from  all  mankind  .  .  .  His  will  is  '  that  many  shall  see 
it'  and  rejoice,  '  and  shall  put  their  trust  in  the  Lord.'"  .  .  . 

"  Q. — But  is  there  no  way  to  prevent  those  crosses,  which 
usually  fall  on  those  who  speak  of  being  thus  saved  from  sin  ? 

A. — It  seems  it  cannot  be  prevented  altogether  while  so 
much  of  nature  remains  even  in  believers." 

Wesley  then  would  not  hear  of  a  yoke  of  silence  being 
imposed  upon  this  privileged  class.  They  spoke  then,  and 
when  they  spoke,  one  naturally  expects  to  hear  that  the 
believing  public  shall  have  the  right,  the  full  right  allowed 
them  of  judging  their  pretensions  to  the  unique  grace  which 
they  profess  to  possess.  But  no,  says  Wesley  practically  : 
you  must  believe  such  a  person ;  he  says  he  has  it ;  he  con- 
ducts himself  piously;  his  behaviour  is  exemplary;  it  is 
not  likely  he  should  lie  for  God,  but  speak  as  he  felt  ; 
I  have  abundant  reason  to  believe  this  person  will  not  lie  ; 
he  testifies  before  me,  I  feel  no  sin,  but  all  love ;  .  .  .  now, 


Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility.  1 8 1 

if  I  have  nothing  to  oppose  to  this  plain  testimony,  I 
ought  in  reason  to  believe  it."1  That  is  the  way  in  which 
Wesley  settles  the  question.  But  this  virtually  gives  any 
man  whatever  the  right  of  declaring  himself  a  perfect  man, 
and  throwing  the  onus  probandi  that  lie  is  not  perfect  upon 
others.  They  must  prove  some  definite  sin  against  him.  But 
they  have  a  right  to  say  :  No ;  he  has  laid  claim  to  a  unique 
character,  and  he  must  show  it  by  a  unique  manifestation. 
I  have  a  right  to  require  that  he  should  prove  it  by  impressing 
me  in  a  unique  way,  not  that  I  should  be  bound  to  disprove  it 
by  a  special  proof  to  the  contrary.  If  he  does  not  bring  this 
perfection  home  to  me,  I  shall  go  on  disbelieving  it.  Of  course 
a  disbeliever  in  perfection  altogether  could  use  a  much  more 
summary  argument,  but  I  assume  here  a  member  of  the  Metho- 
dist body  who  believes  in  the  possibility  of  perfection.  Wes- 
ley puts  the  society  at  the  mercy  of  individual  professions.  A 
man  objects :  This  man  does  not  pray  like  a  perfect  man,  he 
does  not  come  up  to  my  idea  of  a  perfect  man.  That  is  all 
nonsense,  says  Wesley.  "  It  is  your  hardness  of  soul,"  perhaps, 
that  prevents  your  appreciating  his  prayer ;  and  as  for  your 
idea  of  a  perfect  man,  it  is  derived  from  all  quarters  in  the 
world  but  Scripture.  The  objector  is  prevented  then  from  all 
power  of  disproving  the  man's  perfection,  provided  he  only 
abstains  from  open  sins,  and  behaves  with  general  fervour.  The 
gift  is  vulgarised  and  degraded  by  the  low  standard  of  proof 
which  is  required  for  it.  Wesley  throws  this  whole  class  of 
pretenders,  in  short,  upon  the  society,  to  make  what  of  them 
they  can ;  not  compelling  them  indeed  to  believe  them,  but 
insisting  upon  the  most  favourable  construction  of  their  claims. 
They  were  doubtless  a  class  to  whom  it  was  worth  while  accom- 
modating things  ;  men  of  enthusiasm  and  power,  who,  if  their 
claims  had  been  treated  in  a  summary  way,  might  have  taken 
themselves  off  elsewhere,  and  deprived  the  Methodist  body  of 
so  much  strength.  It  was  necessary,  therefore,  to  please  them 
to  a  certain  extent.  Wesley  put  down  in  his  community  all 
"  prejudice,"  as  he  calls  it,  against  them,  and  provides  them 
with  an  indulgent  form  of  proof,  acting  in  favour  of  their 
pretensions  ;  his  principle  being  that  if  the  man  is  deceived  in 

1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  398. 


1 82  Modern  Doctrine  of  Perfectibility. 

his  estimate  of  himself  no  harm  is  done,  if  the  mistake  is 
made  through  fervour. 

"  But  he  is  deceived.  What  then  ?  It  is  a  harmless  mistake 
while  he  feels  nothing  but  love  in  his  heart.  It  is  a  mistake 
which  generally  argues  great  grace,  a  high  degree  of  holiness 
and  happiness.  This  should  he  a  matter  of  real  joy  to 
all  that  are  simple  of  heart ;  not  the  mistake  itself,  but  the 
height  of  grace  which  for  the,  time,  occasions  it."1 

This  is  a  somewhat  different  estimate  of  the  mistake  of  a 
man  thinking  himself  without  sin  from  that  which  the  Apostle 
formed.  Wesley  says  :  "  It  is  the  height  of  grace  which  for  the 
time  occasions  it."  The  Apostle  says  :  "  If  we  say  we  have 
no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us." 

But  there  is  another  point  in  this  treatment  of  Perfection, 
which  vulgarises  and  empties  the  gift  of  reality. 

"  Q. — Can  they  fall  from  a  state  of  perfection  ? 

A. — I  am  well  assured  they  can ;  matter  of  fact  puts  this 
beyond  dispute.  Formerly  we  thought  one  saved  from  sin 
could  not  fall ;  now  we  know  the  contrary.  WTe  are  surrounded 
by  instances  of  those  who  lately  experienced  all  that  I  mean 
by  perfection ;  they  had  both  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  and  the 
witness,  but  now  they  have  lost  both.  .  .  .  There  is  no  such 
height  or  strength  of  holiness  as  it  is  impossible  to  fall  from."2 

Thus  the  state  of  perfection  is  one  which,  it  appears,  it  is 
quite  common  to  fall  from.  But  what  is  the  state  of  perfection 
when  it  is  thus  fallen  from ;  when  a  person  has  it  this  week, 
and  loses  it  next  ?  Is  it  not  of  the  first  elements  of  morality 
that  if  a  man  turns  out  bad,  he  must  have  the  seeds  of  that 
badness  in  him  now  ;  that  he  cannot  be  absolutely  perfect  now 
and  start  from  a  fresh  root  to-morrow.  There  must  be  a  line 
of  continuity  in  the  human  character.  It  cannot  be  thus 
broken  up.  It  is  part  of  the  technicality  of  Wesley's  mind 
that  he  can  regard  man  as  split  into  so  many  pieces — perfect 
to-day,  and  withered  to-morrow.  It  is  a  travesty  of  perfection 
— supposing  it  is  nothing  but  a  feeling  for  the  moment,  or  set 
of  formalities  performed,  and  stopping  when  these  are  over. 
Christian  perfection  cannot  be  made  an  alternative  of  good 
conduct  with  bad. 

1  Wesley's  Works,  vol.  xi.  p.  405.  2  Ibid.  p.  426. 


XIII.— THE  ATHANASIAN  CREED. 

So  much  attention  has  been  drawn  lately  to  the  subject  of 
the  Athanasian  Creed,  that  it  is  not  unsuitable  to  give  it  a 
place  in  the  course  of  these  Lectures  j1  to  notice  the  objections 
that  are  made  to  some  statements  in  it,  and  to  explain  the 
relations  in  which  the  Creed  stands  to  Scripture,  as  well  as  to 
other  parts  of  our  formularies. 

And  the  first  thing  we  observe  in  the  Creed  is  the  impor- 
tant point  that  men  are  condemned  in  it  on  account  of  their 
belief.  We  need  not  just  at  present  examine  the  exact  nature 
of  that  belief,  but  only  attend  to  the  general  fact  that  a  right 
belief  is  assumed  in  this  Creed  to  be  a  matter  for  which  men 
are  responsible,  and  that  men  are  exposed  to  Divine  punish- 
ment and  condemnation  for  the  want  of  it.  Before  we  go  into 
particulars  of  faith,  this  is  the  first  and  preliminary  law  which 
is  assumed  in  what  are  called  the  Damnatory  Clauses ;  but  to 
this  principle,  that  men  can  incur  Divine  punishment  for  their 
religious  belief,  great  objection  is  made.  How  then  does 
Scripture  stand  with  respect  to  this  general  principle  of  pun- 
ishableness  for  belief  ? 

In  examining  Scripture,  then,  we  can  hardly  fail  to  see  that 
not  only  does  Scripture  make  express  statements  that  men  will 
be  condemned  for  their  belief,  but  that  the  principle  of  men  being 
divinely  punishable  for  their  belief  penetrates  the  whole  of  the 
Bible  from  first  to  last,  and  is  assumed  in  the  whole  teaching 
of  the  Bible.  It  is  evident,  in  the  first  place,  that  this  principle 
is  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  of  the  old  Dispensation.  The 
old  dispensation  is  founded  upon  the  assumption  that  a  belief 
in  the  unity  of  the  Divine  nature  was  necessary  for  enjoying 

1  Those  delivered  in  the  Latin  Chapel. 


184  The  Athanasian  Creed. 

the  Divine  favour.  A  man  was  punished  with  death  for 
idolatry.  The  civil  penalty  was  indeed  a  part  of  the  Jewish 
law  which  was  not  intended  for  permanence ;  but  the  Divine 
condemnation  of  the  idolater,  of  which  this  was  the  temporary 
expression,  is  a  permanent  and  fundamental  truth  of  Scripture. 
But  idolatry  is  an  offence  upon  a  point  of  faith,  rather  than  of 
morals.  The  worship  of  God  and  the  worship  of  Him  as  a 
Spirit  and  not  embodied  in  any  material  object  or  form,  is  an 
article  connected  with  the  nature  of  the  Deity  ;  and  the  nature 
of  the  Deity  falls  under  the  head  of  matter  of  faith. 

The  whole  of  the  Old  Testament  dispensation,  then,  was 
founded  upon  the  principle  that  men  are  responsible  for  their 
belief,  and  that  false  religious  belief  subjected  them  to  Divine 
punishment.  Now  it  may  be  said,  that  when  we  come  to  the 
New  Testament  we  shall  find  all  this  altered,  and  this  principle 
given  up  as  an  obsolete  part  of  the  old  Law.  But  is  it  so  ? 
As  the  belief  in  the  Unity  of  God  had  been  imposed  at  the 
cost  of  Divine  wrath  in  the  Old  Testament,  so  in  the  New  the 
belief  in  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Son  of  God  was  imposed  at  the 
same  cost.  We  have  thus  express  damnatory  language : 
"He  that  rejecteth  me,  and  receiveth  not  my  words,  hath 
one  that  judgeth  him."1  "  He  that  believeth  not  is  condemned 
already,  because  he  hath  not  believed  in  the  name  of  the  only 
begotten  Son  of  God." 2  St.  Paul  adopts  from  the  old  dispensa- 
tion the  form  of  the  Anathema — "  Though  we,  or  an  angel  from 
heaven,  preach  any  other  gospel  to  you  than  that  we  have 
preached  unto  you,  let  him  be  accursed."3  "  If  any  man  love  not 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be  Anathema :  Maran-atha."4 
What  St.  Paul  demands  is  not  love  in  general,  the  moral 
affection,  but  the  love  of  Christ,  which  requires  to  begin  with 
the  article  of  belief  to  have  been  received  that  He  is  Christ ; 
and  thus  in  the  latter  text  as  well  as  in  the  former,  faith  is 
guarded  by  an  Anathema.  But  indeed  that  faith  is  necessary 
for  salvation  is  so  completely  the  basis  of  the  New  Testament 
that  if  we  take  away  this  principle  the  whole  fabric  of  the 
Gospel  falls  to  the  ground ;  and  the  whole  language  of  the  New 

1  John  xii.  48.  2  John  iii.  18. 

8  Gal.  i.  8.  *  1  Cor.  xvi.  22. 


The  Athanasian  Creed.  185 

Testament  becomes  an  unintelligible  riddle.  "  Believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  thou  shalt  be  saved;"1 — this  was  the 
necessary  condition  of  salvation  and  of  entering  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  The  whole  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles  would  be 
unmeaning,  if  he  did  not  mean  to  assert  and  to  teach  in  them 
that  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  was  necessary  for  our  justification, 
without  which  justification  we  still  remain  under  condem- 
nation. 

So  far,  then,  as  regards  the  objection  to  the  Athanasian 
Creed  of  condemning  men  for  their  belief,  here  is  a  clear  and 
distinct  answer  for  those  who  acknowledge  Scripture.  It  is 
plain  that  Scripture  makes  a  particular  religious  belief  neces- 
sary for  salvation.  An  unbeliever  would  indeed  deal  shortly  and 
summarily  with  this  language  of  Scripture,  and  would  treat  it 
as  an  antiquated  part  of  religious  language,  which  had  ceased 
with  growing  philosophy  and  civilisation  :  but  we  who  accept 
Scripture  cannot  treat  this  language  as  obsolete,  while  at  the 
same  time  we  must  see  the  fact  of  the  language,  We  must  see 
that  Eevelation  not  only  declares  its  truth  to  the  world,  but 
imposes  that  truth  upon  the  world  ;  that  it  not  only  communi- 
cates itself,  but  asserts  itself ;  that  it  claims  as  of  absolute  right 
the  belief  of  mankind,  and  makes  that  belief  the  condition  of 
salvation.  The  strongest  damnatory  language  is  applied  to 
those  who  do  not  believe — that  they  "  shall  be  judged  at  the 
last  day ; "  that  they  are  "  condemned  already ; "  and  that 
"  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned ;  "2  that  they  who 
preach  any  other  Gospel  are  accursed.  Our  Church  then  could 
not  possibly  admit  any  objection  to  the  Athanasian  Creed, 
founded  upon  the  principle  that  it  made  a  particular  faith,  as 
distinct  from  mere  morals,  indispensable  for  salvation,  without 
coming  into  collision  with  the  plainest  and  most  direct  state- 
ments of  Scripture,  the  constant  assumptions  of  Scripture,  and 
the  foundation  of  the  whole  doctrine  and  scheme  of  Scripture. 

The  condemnatory  language  of  the  Athanasian  Creed  is 
regarded  indeed  by  many  as  isolated  language  which  can  be 

1  Actsxvi.  31. 

2  Mark  xvi.    16  ["he   that  disbelieveth   shall   be  condemned."    Revised 
Version,  1881]. 


1 86  The  Athanasian  Creed. 

cut  whole  out  of  the  Creed  without  entailing  any  consequences, 
and  leaving  all  the  surrounding  ground  untouched.  But  though 
doubtless  the  introduction  of  these  clauses  into  the  Creed  was 
not  in  the  first  instance  necessary,  and  the  Apostles'  and  Mcene 
Creeds  are  without  them ;  when  they  are  once  in  the  Creed,  to 
turn  them  out  on  the  ground  that  such  statements  are  wrong, 
and  ought  not  to  be  made,  is  to  entangle  ourselves  in  conse- 
quences, and  to  expose  ourselves  to  encounter  difficulties  upon 
surrounding  ground,  which  will  begin  to  open  out  upon  us  as 
soon  as  ever  the  obnoxious  matter  has  been  removed  from  the 
Creed.  These  condemnatory  statements  have  indeed  their  root 
deeper  than  in  the  Athanasian  Creed ;  and  when  we  come  to 
extract  them,  we  shall  find  that  the  process  of  extrication  will 
involve  more  unsettlement  and  tearing  up  than  we  anticipated. 
For  in  truth  these  condemnatory  statements  are  substantially 
in  Scripture  :  that  is,  we  have  in  Scripture  plain  universal  con- 
demnations which  cannot  be  separated  in  principle  from  these 
condemnations ; — general  judicial  sentences  which  involve  the 
same  difficulties,  moral  and  speculative,  which  these  do.  We 
shall  not  find  it  easy  then  to  do  what  we  want  without  doing 
more  than  we  want ;  to  accomplish  the  extraction  from  the 
Creed  without  touching  the  doctrine  of  Scripture  too. 

If  an  objection  is  to  be  maintained  and  made  good  against 
the  damnatory  clauses,  it  must  be,  not  upon  the  ground  of  their 
adopting  belief  as  the  necessary  condition  of  salvation,  but 
upon  the  ground  of  the  particular  belief  which  they  adopt  as 
that  condition.  It  must  be  said :  Scripture  undoubtedly  asserts 
the  condemnation  of  those  who  disbelieve  the  doctrine  of 
Scripture  ;  but  this  is  not  the  doctrine  of  Scripture,  as  Scripture 
communicates  it  to  us,  and  as  Scripture  states  and  expresses 
it;  this  is  a  human  exposition  of  the  doctrine  of  revelation, 
adopted  indeed  by  the  Church,  and  applied  for  the  purpose  of 
explanation  and  instruction,  but  it  is  not  the  original  and 
genuine  doctrine  of  Scripture  itself. 

Undoubtedly,  then,  nothing  less  than  a  real  difference 
between  the  two  doctrines,  that  of  Scripture,  and  that  of  the 
Creed,  would  justify  the  distinction  between  the  respective  dis- 
belief in  the  two  doctrines ;  would  justify  the  contrast  that  the 


The  Athanasian  Creed.  187 

doctrine  of  Scripture  must  be  believed  at  the  cost  of  Divine 
condemnation,  but  the  doctrine  of  the  Creed  need  not  be.  But 
when  we  come  to  investigate  this  question,  and  ascertain 
whether  the  doctrine  of  the  Athanasian  Creed  is  the  same  with 
or  different  from  that  of  Scripture,  we  immediately  find  that 
point  decided  by  one  of  our  Articles,  which  says  of  the  Athana- 
sian Creed,  that  "  its  doctrine  may  be  proved  by  most  certain 
warrant  of  Holy  Scripture."  What  then  is  the  state  of  the 
case  ?  Scripture  says  that  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  Scripture 
is  necessary  to  salvation ;  the  Article  says,  this  is  the  doctrine 
of  Scripture  : — Scripture  condemns  for  rejecting  the  faith ;  the 
Article  says,  this  is  the  faith  ; — Scripture  is  answerable  for  the 
judicial  principle,  the  Article  for  its  subject-matter,  and  the 
case  to  which  it  applies.  Those  who  hold  Scripture,  then,  and 
do  not  hold  the  Article,  are  not  prohibited  from  saying  that  the 
Bible  condemns  for  rejecting  the  faith,  but  that  this  is  not  the 
faith.  But  it  is  not  so  easy  to  see  how  we,  who  admit  both 
the  Article  and  Scripture,  can  take  that  course ;  how  we  can 
say  that  Scripture  is  right  in  asserting  the  necessity  of  holding 
the  doctrine  of  Scripture,  the  Article  right  in  saying  this  is  the 
doctrine  of  Scripture ;  and  the  Creed  wrong  in  asserting  the 
necessity  of  holding  it. 

A  great  deal  indeed  is  thrown  upon  the  distinction,  which 
was  just  noticed,  that  the  Creed  is  an  exposition  of  the  doctrine 
of  Kevelation,  adopted  and  sanctioned  by  the  Church,  but  not 
that  doctrine  itself.  The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  in  Unity  does 
indeed,  it  is  said,  lie  at  the  bottom  of  the  Christian  dispensation, 
but  this  is  not  only  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  in  Unity,  but  it 
is  that  doctrine  with  something  else  added  to  it,  other  terms 
and  other  language  and  phraseology. 

But  when  we  make  a  distinction  between  a  doctrine  and 
the  exposition  of  a  doctrine,  it  must  be  remembered  that  an 
exposition  is  not  at  all  necessarily,  not  identical  with  the 
doctrine,  because  it  is  an  exposition  of  it.  It  would  be 
extraordinary  if  this  were  so.  It  is,  indeed,  quite  possible 
that  an  exposition  may  diverge  in  substance  and  meaning  from 
the  doctrine  which  it  professes  to  expound  ;  that  it  may  intro- 
duce foreign  matter,  and  that  it  may  misinterpret  a  doctrine 


1 88  The  Athanasian  Creed. 

instead  of  representing  it  faithfully.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
there  is  no  reason  whatever  why  an  exposition  may  not  be  the 
same  identical  set  of  assertions  with  the  doctrine,  so  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  establish  any  difference  of  truth  or 
meaning  between  the  two.  It  is  assumed  that  as  soon  as  ever 
there  is  a  succession  of  statements  there  must  be  alien  matter. 
But  this  is  a  very  erroneous  and  irrelevant  test  of  alien  matter. 
The  criterion  of  an  exposition  adhering  to  revealed  doctrine  or 
departing  from  it  is  not  a  test  of  length,  but  of  meaning ;  one 
statement  may  diverge  from  the  doctrine  and  ten  may  keep 
to  it,  one  sentence  may  introduce  foreign  matter  and  human 
conjecture,  and  ten  may  never  give  up  their  pure  hold  of  the 
original  truth. 

When  then  we  take  the  doctrine,  as  ordinarily  received  and 
stated,  of  the  Trinity,  on  the  one  side,  and  the  exposition  in  the 
Creed  on  the  other,  we  certainly  find  in  every  successive  state- 
ment of  the  latter  what  looks  like  a  very  complete  identity  of 
the  two,  the  exposition  and  the  doctrine.  Let  us  take  the 
doctrine  as  expressed  in  our  first  Article  :  that  "  there  is  but 
one  living  and  true  God,"  and  that  "  in  the  unity  of  this  God- 
head there  be  three  Persons,  of  one  substance,  power,  and 
eternity;  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost."  The 
doctrine  then  is,  that  these  Three  are  Three  Persons,  each  of 
whom  is  God,  and  there  is  only  one  God.  What  does  the  ex- 
position then  say?  1.  We  must  not  confound  the  Persons,  or 
divide  the  one  substance  of  the  Godhead.  Is  this  an  addition 
to  the  doctrine  ?  No,  it  is  exactly  the  same  with  it ;  for 
if  the  Persons  are  confounded  they  cease  to  be  Three,  and  if 
the  Substance  is  divided  it  ceases  to  be  One.  Again,  "  the  glory 
is  equal,  the  majesty  co-eternal."  Is  that  an  addition  ?  Or  is 
it  possible  that  one  Godhead  can  either  be  unequal  to  itself,  or 
not  co -eternal  with  itself?  Again,  "Such  as  the  Father  is, 
such  is  the  Son,  and  such  is  the  Holy  Ghost."  This  is  the 
doctrine  simply,  and  nothing  more  ;  for  this  must  be  so,  if  each 
is  God.  Again,  "  In  this  Trinity  none  is  afore  or  after  other, 
none  is  greater  or  less  than  another."  This,  too,  is  the  doctrine 
simply,  and  no  addition  to  it ;  for  if  each  is  God,  how  can  God 
be  greater  or  less  than  God,  prior  or  posterior  to  God  ? 


The  Athanasian  Creed.  189 

There  has  been  a  supposition  then  that  the  Athanasian 
Confession  is  metaphysical ;  and  this  supposition  has  so  com- 
pletely occupied  the  very  entrance  of  the  subject  that  it  has 
been  regarded  as  the  simplest  fact;  and  no  aspect  but  that 
of  a  chain  of  metaphysics  has  been  allowed  for  this  Creed. 
But  though  there  are  doubtless  metaphysics  in  this  Creed,  in 
the  sense  in  which  there  must  be  metaphysics  in  everything 
which  has  to  do  with  the  Divine  nature,  in  the  sense  in  which 
there  are  metaphysics  in  those  parts  of  Scripture  which  relate 
to  the  Divine  Being,  His  incomprehensible  attributes  and  mode 
of  existence ;  in  no  other  sense  do  there  appear  to  be  meta- 
physics in  this  Creed.  The  Creed  is  metaphysical  in  the  sense 
in  which  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  itself  is  metaphysical ;  but 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  once  assumed,  there  is  nothing  added 
to  it,  and  the  exposition  adheres  as  closely  as  words  can  do  to  the 
original  truth,  only  carrying  it  through  different  forms  of  lan- 
guage. If  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  are  each  God,  it  can 
be  no  addition  to  say  that  each  is  uncreated,  that  each  is  in- 
comprehensible, that  each  is  eternal,  that  each  is  Almighty, 
that  each  is  Lord,  that  the  Three  are  equal  in  majesty  and 
glory,  that  such  as  the  One  is,  such  is  the  Other.  And  again,  if 
these  Three  Persons  are  one  God,  it  can  be  no  addition  to  say 
that  there  is  but  one  uncreate,  one  eternal,  one  incomprehen- 
sible, one  Almighty,  one  Lord.  Any  one  sentence  in  this  whole 
succession  involves  every  other.  I  cannot  conceive  a  mind  so 
constituted  as  to  believe  really  that  there  are  Three  Persons, 
but  that  they  ought  to  be  confounded ;  and  One  Substance,  but 
that  it  ought  to  be  divided.  I  cannot  conceive  such  a  type  of 
reasoning  power  as  would  admit  that  the  Son  was  God,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost  God,  and  yet  not  allow  them  the  attributes  of  God. 
If  a  person,  then,  disbelieves  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  he  has 
the  best  of  all  reasons  for  disbelieving  the  Athanasian  Creed  ; 
but  if  he  believes  it,  then  I  do  not  see  what  else  he  has  to 
believe  in  the  Athanasian  Creed  but  this.  After  lengthening 
by  reduplication,  and  unfolding  by  equivalent  terms,  after 
affirming  the  positives  of  the  truth,  and  denying  the  negatives, 
the  Creed  shuts  up  into  one  assertion,  namely,  that  of  the 
Trinity  in  Unity. 


190  The  Athanasian  Creed. 

What  purpose,  indeed,  would  it  have  answered  to  have 
clothed  and  clogged  an  article  of  faith  with  philosophy  ? 
None  at  all ;  on  the  contrary,  philosophy  would  have  been  a 
great  deal  in  the  way.  It  is  plain,  what  is  wanted  in  this 
Creed  is  to  fix  the  orthodox  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  upon  men's 
minds,  keeping  them  as  close  as  possible  to  it  from  first  to  last ; 
sustaining  and  prolonging  the  one  great  doctrinal  assertion  by 
forms  of  statement ;  heightening  the  dignity  and  solemnity  of 
it,  but  not  interfering  with,  but  only  exhibiting,  the  original 
truth.  But  this  would  have  been  prevented  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  metaphysics.  It  would  have  just  disturbed  the  single 
scope,  the  uniform  impress,  the  determinate  march  of  the  Creed. 
Thus  it  was  the  very  interest  of  the  Creed,  if  I  may  say  so,  to 
avoid  metaphysics.  Speculation  was  foreign  to  its  aim.  The 
orthodox  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  assumed,  every  clause  in  the 
exposition  must  simply  coincide  with  it,  purely  echo  it.  That 
was  the  object ;  and  if  that  was  the  object,  it  is  the  Creed's 
best  guarantee  that  that  one  doctrine  was  all  that  was 
expressed  and  contained  in  it.  I  do  not  know  that  it  would 
make  any  difference  in  this  respect,  even  had  the  Creed  been 
composed,  as  a  hostile  writer  has  suggested,  for  a  warning 
against  the  Visigoths.  For  whomsoever  it  was  composed,  it  was 
composed  for  persons  who  wanted  their  ears  to  ring  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  did  not  much  care  to  hear  any- 
thing that  would  clash  with  the  singleness  of  that  appeal.  It 
would  be  to  the  last  degree  improbable  that  the  Franks  would 
have  understood  one  word  of  a  scholastic  argument ;  it  was 
highly  advisable  therefore  that  any  one  who  wanted  to  in- 
fluence their  religion  should  abstain  from  metaphysics,  and 
adhere  as  closely  as  possible  to  a  doctrine. 

On  one  point,  indeed,  namely,  that  of  the  Procession  ques- 
tion, the  Creed  gives  the  relations  within  the  Trinit}^  in  the  sense 
of  the  Western,  and  not  in  that  of  the  Eastern  Church.  But 
the  whole  form  of  the  Creed  shows  that  what  it  insists  on,  and 
what  it  guards  by  damnatory  language,  is  the  main  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  and  not  any  subordinate  controverted  distinction. 

The  step  which  was  lately  demanded  from  the  Church  is,  in 
substance,  a  judicial  step  ;  it  is  a  judgment  upon,  and  against, 


The  Athanasian  Creed.  191 

the  damnatory  clauses,  in  effect  declaring  them  to  be  illegiti- 
mate and  wrong.  I  know  that  the  act  is  not  in  form  judicial ; 
the  Church  is  only  asked  to  withdraw  them,  and  not  to  say 
anything.  She  is  only  asked  to  divest  the  Creed  of  statements 
which  it  might  without  error  have  been  made  without.  There 
was  no  necessity  that  the  damnatory  clauses  should  have  been 
attached  to  the  Creed  in  the  first  instance,  no  Church  rule  made 
it  obligatory,  and  the  Apostles'  and  Mcene  Creeds  are  without 
them.  But  though  no  act  would  be  done  in  form  judicial,  it 
must  be  seen  that  when  these  clauses  are  in  the  Creed,  and 
have  been  in  ever  since  it  was  made ;  to  remove  them  now 
could  be  no  other  than  a  condemnatory  act  on  the  part  of  the 
Church.  Had  the  Creed  been  made  without  these  clauses,  that 
would  have  been  no  judgment  at  all  on  the  part  of  the  Church 
upon  the  condemnatory  clauses  themselves ;  it  would  only 
have  been  to  say  that  there  was  no  necessity  to  introduce  them 
in  that  particular  place  ;  the  Nicene  Creed  being  without  them 
was  no  reflection  upon  them,  because  the  Council  proclaimed 
them  in  another  place.  But  the  place  in  the  Creed  once  given, 
and  held  for  ages,  cannot  be  taken  away  without  a  judicial  act 
on  the  part  of  the  Church  upon  and  against  the  clauses  them- 
selves. 

And  though  in  some  days  such  an  act  as  this  might  be  per- 
formed by  a  Church  without  having  its  strict  intrepretation 
pressed  home  to  the  actors,  and  without  having  any  strong 
consequences  drawn  out  of  it,  such  could  not  be  expected  to  be 
the  case  now.  The  American  Church  a  century  ago  shelved 
the  Athanasian  Creed,  but  it  was  at  a  time  when  people  did 
not  go  very  accurately  into  the  meaning  of  what  they  did,  and 
only  aimed  at  a  certain  convenience  in  excluding  anything 
which  had  an  explanation  wanted  for  it.  It  would  be  impos- 
sible now  to  do  the  same  act  in  the  same  easy  and  negative 
spirit  in  which  it  was  done  in  America  at  the  end  of  the  last 
century.  When  two  stormy  currents,  of  religious  belief  on  the 
one  hand,  and  unbelief  on  the  other,  have  set  in,  each  side  at 
once  sees  such  an  act  illuminated  by  the  powerful  rays  of  an 
intellectual  focus.  The  undogmatic  school  will  interpret  the 
Church  as  giving  up  doctrine,  when  she  no  longer  dare  annex 


1 92  The  Atkanasian  Creed. 

a  condemnation  to  the  rejection  of  doctrine  ;  and  this  school 
will  prize  the  result.  The  dogmatic  school  will  see  the  act  in 
the  same  light,  and  will  reprobate  the  result. 

The  act,  then,  which  was  lately  required  from  the  Church, 
being  a  judicial  act,  condemning  the  damnatory  clauses  as 
wrong  and  mistaken,  the  first  question  is,  Can  the  Church 
do  this  consistently  ?  It  must  be  seen  that  the  Church 
cannot  entertain  a  proposition  like  this  without  at  the 
same  time  having  regard  to  the  whole  existing  fabric  of  her 
belief.  Our  Church  has  a  constitution,  formularies,  and  a  de- 
clared body  of  religious  doctrine.  A  Church  cannot  act  in  an 
insulated  way,  but  must  consider  what  she  is  asked  to  do 
with  a  reference  to  what  is  her  own  basis  of  teaching,  and 
structure  of  faith. 

Upon  what  ground,  then,  could  our  Church  take  her  stand, 
in  condemning  the  damnatory  clauses  of  this  Creed  ?  We  have 
seen  that  it  could  not  be  upon  the  ground  that  Scripture  did 
not  condemn  for  a  wrong  belief,  and  that  it  could  not  be  upon 
the  ground  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Creed  was  not  that  of 
Scripture.  She  herself  declares  that  it  "  may  be  proved  by 
most  certain  warrants  of  Holy  Scripture ; "  and  when  we  take 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  laid  down  in  the  first  Article,  and 
compare  it  with  the  Creed,  we  find  that  the  Creed  is  nothing 
but  that  doctrine  carried  through  a  series  of  identical  forms  of 
statement. 

Although  our  Church,  then,  could  indeed,  by  a  special 
insulated  act,  condemn  as  erroneous  these  clauses,  what  she 
cannot  do  is  take  the  step  consistent!}^,  and  in  agreement  with 
her  own  premisses,  with  her  own  express  body  of  teaching, 
with  her  own  declared  fabric  of  doctrine  ;  with  her  articles 
and  formularies  of  faith.  It  would  be  a  single  inconsistent  act 
on  her  part. 

But  we  are  not  confined  to  the  Articles  for  the  place  which 
our  Church  gives  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  It  is  in  the 
Prayer-book  more  than  in  the  Articles.  The  three  Persons  in 
the  Trinity  stand  forth  in  our  Prayer-book  as  the  Objects  of 
every  Christian's  faith  ;  to  Whom  we  are  placed  in  the  most 
intimate  relations,  as  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Sanctifier.  We 


The  Athanasian  Creed.  193 

know  no  God  in  the  Prayer-book  but  that  God  who  is  Three 
in  One.  We  pray  to  the  three  Persons ;  we  address  them  ;  we 
speak  to  them  ;  we  petition  them  ;  we  ask  them  for  mercy,  we 
adore  them,  and  we  give  glory  to  them. 

Our  Prayer-book,  then,  takes  as  its  very  foundation  the 
revelation  of  the  Three  Hypostases  in  the  Deity ;  it  requires 
that  revelation  to  justify  it.  The  whole  Catholic  Church  of 
Christ  requires  that  revelation  in  order  to  acquit  the  acts  of 
the  Church,  and  the  acts  which  she  makes  every  individual 
member  of  the  Church  do.  Unless  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
is  part  of  the  true  Christian  Eevelation,  and  unless  we  have 
that  guarantee  that  the  three  Persons  whom  we  address  in  our 
Prayer-book,  and  in  all  Prayer-books,  are  real  existences,  what 
right  has  the  Church  to  make  us  address  them  ?  It  is  evident, 
then,  that  the  Trinity  in  the  Godhead  is  assumed  by  the  Church 
as  an  original  revelation  to  mankind ;  and  the  Church  from  the 
first,  in  putting  her  children  into  relation  to  these  mysterious 
Divine  Persons,  directing  their  thoughts  and  affections  towards 
them,  and  teaching  men  to  apply  to  them  for  the  supply  of  their 
spiritual  needs,  has  done  so  upon  the  ground  of  the  existence 
of  these  Divine  Persons  having  been  revealed,  and  of  the  cer- 
tainty and  strength  of  this  revelation.  The  invisible  presence 
of  the  Three  in  One  has  thus  penetrated  every  corner  of  the 
Christian  life,  and  the  religious  feeling  has  flowed  forth  in 
hymns,  supplications,  and  praises.  "The  essence  of  natural 
Eeligion,"  says  Bishop  Butler,  "  may  be  said  to  consist  in  reli- 
gious regards  to  God  the  Father  Almighty  :  and  the  essence  of 
revealed  Eeligion,  as  distinguished  from  natural,  to  consist  in 
religious  regards  to  the  Son  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  the 
obligation  we  are  under  of  paying  these  religious  regards  to 
each  of  these  Divine  Persons  respectively  arises  from  the 
respective  relations  which  they  stand  in  to  us.  ...  The 
Son  and  Spirit  have  each  his  proper  office  in  that  great  dis- 
pensation of  Providence,  the  Eedemption  of  the  world  ;  the  one 
our  Mediator,  the  other  our  Sanctifier."  .  .  .  And  "  religious 
regards  .  .  .  are  thus  obviously  due  to  the  Son  and  Holy  Spirit, 
as  arising,  not  merely  from  command  in  Scripture,  but  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  revealed  relations  which  they  stand  in  to 

N 


194  The  Athanasian  Creed. 

us,  ...  the  relations  they  stand  in  to  us  being  matter  of  pure 
revelation."1 

The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  then,  constituting,  as  it  does, 
not  only  one  of  the  Articles  of  our  Church,  but  the  very 
foundation  of  the  Prayer-book,  and  of  the  devotional  life  of 
her  children ;  and  the  doctrine  being  thus  plainly  and 
absolutely  treated  by  her  as  a  genuine  and  true  part  of  the 
Christian  revelation  ; — if  condemnatory  sanctions  are  to  apply 
to  any  Christian  doctrine  or  truth  at  all,  they  must  apply  to  this 
doctrine.  And  how  can  she  withdraw  them,  therefore,  with 
due  regard  to  her  own  consistency  and  the  unity  of  her  own 
teaching  ?  She  has  a  certain  constitution  and  fabric  of  belief, 
with  which  this  act  of  censure  is  plainly  incompatible ;  and 
Scripture  being  answerable  for  the  condemnation  of  wilful 
rejection  of  revealed  truth,  and  the  Church  confessing  that 
this  is  revealed  truth,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  she  could 
harmonise  the  withdrawal  of  these  clauses  with  her  own  con- 
stitution and  fabric  of  faith. 

It  is,  indeed,  an  acknowledged  principle  in  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  damnatory  language  of  Scripture  regarding  unbelief, 
that  it  is  to  be  understood  with  conditions ;  and  the  same  rule 
of  interpretation  applies  to  the  damnatory  clauses  of  the 
Athanasian  Creed.  The  omission  of  conditions  is  one  of  those 
expedients  of  which  language  has  frequently  availed  itself  for 
the  sake  of  convenience, — making  absolute  statements  when  that 
which  qualifies  them  is  left  to  be  understood.  But  this  is  so 
common,  so  coeval  with  language,  and  so  much  a  part  of  it, 
that  when  it  is  said  that  to  take  language  with  this  under- 
standing is  a  non-natural  interpretation  of  language,  we  cannot 
but  consider  that  such  an  assertion  is  made  in  forgetfulness  of 
the  whole  growth,  and  of  the  plainest  facts,  of  language.  We 
justly  call  it  a  non-natural  explanation  when  the  plain  and 
known  meaning  of  a  word  is  contradicted,  and  it  is  explained 
to  mean  something  else  ;  but  simply  to  supply  a  condition  to  a 
statement,  which  is  understood  in  it,  cannot  be  called  a  non- 
natural  interpretation  of  that  statement ;  rather  the  contrary 
would  be  the  non-natural  interpretation ;  rigidly  to  insist  upon 

1  Butler's  Analogy,  Part  n.  chap.  i. 


The  Atkanasian  Creed.  195 

interpreting  a  statement  according  to  its  pure  grammar,  when 
the  usage  of  language  admits  an  understanding  in  the 
interpretation  of  it.  It  is  this  which  is  to  interpret  the  state- 
ment non-naturally.  It  is  non-natural  because  it  is  not  a 
carrying  out  of  the  intention  of  language,  but  a  thwarting  of  that 
intention.  Take,  for  instance,  one  of  those  pieces  of  instruction 
which  we  meet  with  in  Scripture — "  Give  to  him  that  asketh 
thee."  Here  is  an  instance  in  which  the  grammar  covers  any 
case  whatever,  and  of  what  kind  soever,  and  whensoever, 
and  wheresoever,  of  asking :  the  naked  construction  logically 
contains  and  includes  the  universal  area  of  begging.  Do  we 
then  interpret  this  precept  non-naturally  when  we  take  it 
as  understanding  conditions,  and  not  as  applying  indis- 
criminately to  all  cases  whatever  of  asking?  It  appears  to 
me  that  we  should  interpret  it  very  non-naturally  if  we  did 
not  take  it  as  understanding  conditions.  That  would  be  the 
artificial,  the  strained,  the  violent  interpretation — the  inter- 
pretation that  went  against  the  natural  meaning  of  the  language, 
considered  in  connection  with  the  known  and  familiar  practice 
of  language.  So  of  the  precept,  "  Eesist  not  evil."  It  is  obvious 
that  the  precept  only  means  to  inculcate  in  a  forcible  way, 
generally,  the  duty  of  resignation ;  that  the  universal  form  in 
which  it  is  put  is  made  necessary  by  the  exigencies  of  the 
case,  because  a  short  and  pithy  precept  was  essential  to  the 
purpose  of  instruction;  and  that  the  hearer  was  intended  to 
carry  away  from  the  universal  precept — "  Eesist  not  evil,"  the 
main  lesson,  and  to  supply  of  his  own  common  sense  the 
necessary  exceptions.  It  is  the  Quaker's  interpretation  of 
"  Eesist  not  evil "  that  is  the  non-natural  interpretation  :  upon 
principles  of  common  sense  nobody  could  so  understand  the 
command ;  it  is  the  strained  exposition  of  a  sect.  Language 
cannot  be  held  in  such  a  vice.  And  just  as  moral  instruction 
requires  its  liberty  of  speech,  and  has  modes  of  statement  which 
must  not  be  tied  to  the  letter,  so  has  judicial  and  condemnatory 
language.  The  Athanasian  Creed  uses  a  universal  formula  of 
condemnation.  But  to  take  this  formula  as  excluding  all 
conditions  in  the  application  of  it  is  to  commit  exactly  the 
same  mistake  in  the  interpretation  of  it  that  we  should 


196  The  Athanasian  Creed. 

commit  in  insisting  on  the  literal  interpretation  of  "  Swear  not 
at  all,"  or  "Pray  without  ceasing,"  or  any  other  summary 
dictum  of  instruction.  The  formula  is  not  intended  for  this 
strain  upon  it,  and  such  strain  would  be  in  real  truth  a  most 
non-natural  interpretation  of  it.  It  is  meant  to  express  the 
truth  that  eternal  punishment  is  the  sentence  upon  all  who 
reject  the  true  faith,  being  really  responsible  for  this  rejection, 
and  having  nothing  to  excuse  them  in  the  circumstances  of 
their  education  and  situation,  and  the  influences  to  which  they 
have  been  exposed.  But  to  suppose  that  because  the  statement 
is  made  in  a  universal  form,  therefore  it  is  intended  to  apply 
to  all  heretics  without  discrimination, — to  those  who  have 
been  educated  in  heresy,  and  who  only  hold  the  creed  in  which 
they  have  been  brought  up ;  to  those  even  who  have  never 
heard  of  any  other  faith ; — this  is  so  monstrous  an  assertion, 
that  we  ought  not  to  suppose  that  the  whole  Church  could 
have  made  it,  unless  there  were  overwhelming  evidence  that 
she  accepted  this  statement  in  that  sense.  But  the  only 
evidence  offered  is  the  universal  form  of  the  statement  itself. 
This  is  no  evidence  at  all,  because  it  is  certain  that  univer- 
sal statements,  intended  to  be  modified  and  understood 
with  conditions,  are  incorporated  in  language,  are  a  part  of 
language,  and  are  coeval  with  the  very  structure  of  language. 
Were  there  indeed  no  controversy  stirring,  ninety-nine  out  of 
a  hundred  would  interpret  it  so  as  a  matter  of  course ;  and 
they  would  think  it  an  ^natural  interpretation  of  it  to  insist 
upon  tying  the  statement  to  the  rigid  letter.  They  would  be 
right  in  thinking  so.  There  is  no  greater  non-natural  inter- 
pretation than  the  forced  and  rigid  avoidance  of  qualified 
interpretation.  On  the  other  hand,  we  cannot  call  that  a  forced 
and  strained  explanation  which  we  are  giving  constantly  to 
language,  and  giving  with  general  consent.  This  qualifica- 
tion of  sense  is  a  treatment  of  language  which  we  are  apply- 
ing to  it  almost  every  hour  of  our  lives.  Why,  then, 
should  it  be  non-natural  when  it  is  applied  to  the  Athanasian 
Creed  ? 

The  damnatory  language  of  the  New  Testament  is  put  into 
this  universal  form ;   but  the  universal  damnatory  assertions 


The  Athanasian  Creed.  197 

of  the  New  Testament  have  always  been  understood  with  tacit 
conditions ;  nor  has  this  ever  been  regarded  as  a  non-natural 
interpretation  of  them,  but,  on  the  contrary,  this  interpretation 
has  always  been  given  to  them  as  a  matter  of  course.  Our 
Lord  says  :  "  He  that  rejecteth  me,  and  receiveth  not  my  words, 
hath  one  that  judgeth  him  •  the  word  that  I  have  spoken,  the 
same  shall  judge  him  in  the  last  day."1  This  is  a  damna- 
tory assertion  applying  in  terms  to  all  who  reject  our  Lord ; 
but  has  this  assertion  been  ever  taken  in  a  sense  of  literal 
universality  ?  It  never  has  been.  It  has  never  been  supposed, 
even,  that  all  the  Jews  in  Jerusalem  who  lived  in  our  Lord's 
own  day  and  actually  heard,  or  knew  of,  His  preaching,  but 
did  not  in  fact  accept  it,  will  be  eternally  punished.  This  arid 
other  like  assertions  have  been  always  understood  with  a  con- 
dition that  such  rejection  of  Christ  as  is  spoken  of,  is  from 
causes  for  which  the  individual  himself  is  morally  responsible, 
and  not  from  any  irresistible  influence  of  education  and 
circumstances.  Thus  our  Lord  says  again  :  "  If  ye  believe  not 
that  I  am  He,  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins."2  This  also  is  a 
universal  damnatory  assertion,  reprobating  all  who  did  not 
believe  in  Him.  But  this  has  also  been  always  understood  in 
the  same  qualified  sense.  And  so  to  Mcodemus  our  Lord's 
announcement  is :  "  He  that  believeth  not  is  condemned 
already,  because  he  hath  not  believed  in  the  name  of  the  only 
begotten  Son  of  God."  This  too  is  a  universal  damnatory 
assertion,  which  has  been  always  understood  with  conditions. 
And  so  when  our  Lord  says  in  the  last  chapter  of  St.  Mark, 
"  He  that  believeth  not  [or  disbelieveth]  shall  be  damned,"  that 
too  is  a  damnatory  assertion  which  has  never  been  taken  in 
the  absoluteness  of  the  letter,  but  always  as  tacitly  coupled 
with  a  condition. 

"When,  then,  we  see  that  universal  statements  which  admit 
of  being  understood  in  a  qualified  sense  have  a  recognised  place 
in  language;  and  when  we  see  that  Scripture  itself  has 
adopted  that  form  of  statement ;  and  when  we  see  that  it  uses 
that  form  of  statement  in  the  very  department,  with  which 
we  are  now  concerned,  of  damnatory  language ;  and  when  we 

1  John  xii.  48.  2  John  viii.  24. 


198  The  Athanasian  Creed. 

ourselves  understand  these  assertions  of  Scripture  in  this  sense, 
and  so  far  from  thinking  it  a  non-natural  sense,  would  without 
any  hesitation  regard  the  contrary  or  rigidly  literal  interpretion 
as  non-natural — as  artificial,  forced,  strained,  and  unnatural ; 
how  can  we  with  this  introduction,  and  having  adopted  this 
course  in  language  and  in  Scripture,  twist  the  whole  principle 
of  interpretation  right  round  as  soon  as  we  come  to  the 
Athanasian  Creed  ?  How  are  we  justified  in  saying  that  the 
letter  of  the  grammar  is  an  artificial  and  false  sense  in  Scripture, 
and  the  true  and  natural  sense  in  the  Creed?  How  are  we 
justified  in  fastening  the  epithet  non-natural  upon  the  very 
same  interpretation  in  the  Creed  for  which  in  the  New 
Testament  we  have  claimed  the  attribute  of  natural  ?  Does 
Scripture,  when  it  says  that  everybody  is  condemned  who  does 
not  believe  aright,  mean  that  he  is  condemned  conditionally— 
if  it  is  his  perverseness,  if  it  is  his  individual  sin,  if  it  is  his 
wilfulness,  if  it  is  his  pride  :  and  does  the  Athanasian  Creed, 
when  •  it  says  the  same  thing,  mean  that  he  is  condemned 
whether  it  is  his  sin  or  not  that  he  does  not  believe,  whether 
he  is  wilful  or  not,  whether  he  is  proud  or  not,  and  whether 
he  is  perverse  or  not  ?  Such  interpretative  judgment  would 
involve  a  conspicuous  contradiction  and  absurdity. 

The  .New  Testament  lays  down  one  general  law  upon  this 
subject,  and  states  one  fundamental  condition  upon  which  all 
the  damnatory  language,  applied  to  those  who  do  not  hold  a 
right  faith,  is  used ;  and  that  is,  that  the  error  in  faith  proceeds 
from  something  wrong  morally.  "  This  is  the  condemnation  that 
light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather 
than  light  because  their  deeds  were  evil."1  The  rule  of  eternal 
condemnation  is  here  expressly  declared  to  be  a  moral  one  ; 
and  as  this  rule  of  Scripture  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  the 
damnatory  language  of  Scripture,  so  it  underlies  also  all  the 
damnatory  language  of  the  Church.  The  Church  assumes  the 
rule  of  Scripture,  and  makes  every  universal  assertion  of  this 
kind  with  this  fundamental  condition  attaching  to  it,  by  the 
necessity  of  her  very  root  which  is  in  Scripture. 

It    is   sometimes   said    those    who    drew   up    this    Creed 

1  John  iii.  19. 


The  Athanasian  Creed.  199 

obviously  did  not  intend  the  damnatory  clauses  to  be  understood 
in  any  qualified  sense.  But  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
sense  in  which  the  compiler  of  this  Creed  understood  these 
clauses ;  even  if  we  could  ascertain  who  the  compiler  was. 
This  is  the  Church's  Creed,  and  these  clauses  are  imposed  upon 
us  to  be  understood  according  to  the  Church's  rule  of  inter- 
pretation, and  not  according  to  any  private  interpretation,  or 
any  individual's  sense  :  and  the  Church's  rule  of  interpretation 
is  the  rule  by  which  we  interpret  the  like  statements  in 
Scripture,  which,  as  we  know,  is  the  conditional  rule  of  moral 
responsibility. 


2OO 


XIV.— TH£  HOLY  EUCHARIST.1 

THE  great  result  of  our  Church's  review  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Eucharist  at  the  Eeformation  was  to  recall  the  doctrine 
from  the  technical  and  artificial  precision  and  completeness 
which  mediaeval  philosophy  had  imparted  to  it,  to  a  more  vague 
and  indefinite,  but  at  the  same  time  more  genuine  form,  and  one 
more  like  the  original.  Mediaeval  thought  found  the  doctrine 
with  a  certain  obscurity,  shadowiness,  and  incompleteness 
attaching  to  it,  and  left  it  exact,  systematic,  and  vigorous,  every 
chasm  filled  up,  and  the  whole  rounded  and  compacted.  To 
our  Church,  on  the  other  hand,  the  undefined  form  of  the 
doctrine  appeared  to  be  the  designed  form.  This  incomplete- 
ness was  intended.  It  had  been  officiousness  to  meddle  with 
it,  to  improve  upon  it.  Our  Church  then  restored  the  doctrine 
to  its  original  and  more  undefined  state,  and  rejected  the  new 
supplementary  matter. 

1.  TRANSUBSTANTIATION. — In  the  first  place,  it  rejected 
Transubstantiation.  The  primitive  doctrine  of  the  Eucharist 
was  undoubtedly  that  of  a  change  in  the  elements,  whereby 
from  being  mere  bread  and  wine  they  became  the  body  and 
blood  of  Christ,  to  the  strengthening  and  refreshing  of  our 
souls.  The  early  Church,  then,  was  content  with  the  simple 
and  indefinite  idea  of  a  change,  a  material  and  natural  food, — 
the  food  of  the  body, — being  converted  into  another  kind  of 
nourishment,  the  nourishment  of  the  soul.  But  when  a  later 
age  came  to  the  consideration  of  this  subject,  it  discovered  that 
the  idea  of  change — the  change  of  bread  and  wine  into  the 
body  and  blood — was  incomplete,  and  stopped  short  unless  it 
was  distinctly  stated  as  a  change  of  substance ;  that  the  sub- 
stance of  the  former  bodies  was  converted  into  the  substance 
of  the  latter.  Unless  this  took  place,  it  was  said,  there  was  no 

i  Delivered  in  the  Latin  ChapeL 


The  Holy  Eucharist.  201 

change  of  one  body  into  another ;  but  a  change  was  granted ; 
therefore  this  must  take  place ;  the  substance  of  the  bread  and 
wine  must  cease,  and  in  its  place  must  be  the  substance  of  the 
Body  and  Blood — which  is  Transubstantiation.  The  doctrine 
of  Transubstantiation  was  thus  in  its  aim  a  logical  filling-up  of 
the  indefinite  idea  of  a  change ;  it  resulted  from  a  process  of 
reasoning — that,  if  there  was  a  change  of  the  material  food  into 
the  spiritual  at  all,  there  must  be  a  change  of  its  substance, 
and  that  if  one  substance  was  changed  into  another,  the  first 
substance  could  no  longer  exist. 

But  though  the  idea  of  change  was  sharpened,  and  an 
apparent  void  filled  up  by  this  logical  step,  it  appeared,  as  soon 
as  ever  a  revision  took  place,  that  it  was  a  precision  gained 
where  it  was  not  wanted.  It  was  not  wanted,  for  what  could 
be  more  irrelevant  to  the  truth  of  the  spiritual  substance,  in 
the  sacrament,  than  the  question  about  the  material  substance 
of  the  bodily  food  ?  The  spiritual  substance  was  clearly  the 
one  important  element  in  the  Sacrament,  for  which  the 
Sacrament  was  instituted,  and  whether  or  not  the  material 
substance  had  been  abstracted  in  the  act  of  change,  or  remained 
after  it,  would  not  make  any  difference  to  the  inward  part  of 
the  Sacrament  or  the  res  sacramenti.  The  distinction  was 
entirely  a  metaphysical  one,  and  had  no  spiritual  relevance ;  it 
did  not  affect,  one  way  or  another,  the  effect  and  virtue  of  the 
Sacrament.  The  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  has  just  the  same 
nourishing  effect  whatever  becomes  of  the  substance  of  the 
bread ;  and  the  notion  of  substance  in  distinction  to  accidents 
was  purely  a  notion  of  philosophy  introduced  into  a  spiritual 
subject,  where  it  was  altogether  an  incongruous  consideration. 
The  whole  was  simply  a  subtle  and  barren  philosophical 
speculation,  ending  in  mere  words,  without  sense  or  meaning, 
and  entirely  foreign  to  a  spiritual  ordinance,  and  to  a  channel  of 
divine  grace.  Our  Church  therefore,  at  the  Reformation,  rejected 
Transubstantiation,  and  fell  back  upon  the  earlier  and  more  in- 
definite idea  of  a  change  in  the  elements — as  a  change,  namely, 
which  was  true  and  real  for  all  the  purposes  of  the  Sacrament, 
by  which  the  elements  became,  from  being  mere  physical  food, 
spiritual  food.  "  If  these  things  be  true,"  says  Thorndike,  "  it 
will  be  requisite  that  we  acknowledge  a  change  to  be  wrought 


2O2  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

in  the  elements  by  the  consecration  of  them  in  the  Sacrament. 
For  how  should  they  come  to  be  that  which  they  were  not 
before,  to  wit,  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  without  any  change  ? 
And  in  regard  of  this  change,  the  elements  are  no  more  called 
by  the  name  of  their  nature  or  kind  after  the  consecration,  but 
by  the  name  of  that  which  they  are  become.  Not  as  if  the  sub- 
stance thereof  were  abolished,  but  because  it  remains  no  more 
considerable  to  Christians,  who  do  not,  nor  are  to,  look  upon 
this  sacrament  with  any  account  of  what  it  may  be  to  the 
nourishment  of  their  bodies,  but  what  it  may  be  to  the 
nourishment  of  their  souls." 1 

Again,  with  respect  to  another  important  point  relating  to 
the  Sacrament,  the  primitive  doctrine  had  less  speculative 
consistency,  while  by  that  very  twofold  direction  which  it 
took,  it  comprehended  more  truth,  and  reflected  more  faithfully 
the  nature  of  the  Sacrament  itself.  I  refer  to  the  point  of  the 
objectiveness  of  the  res  sacramenti.  Certainly  the  ground 
taken  by  the  early  Church  with  respect  to  the  spiritual  part  of 
the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper — the  Body  and  Blood  of 
our  Lord — was  not  that  that  spiritual  part  was  only  an  internal 
matter,  a  moral  effect  of  the  act  of  participation  upon  the 
mind.  The  Lord's  Body  and  Blood  was  regarded  as  a  reality 
external  to  the  mind,  even  as  the  bread  and  wine  was  ;  it  was 
considered  as  joined  to  the  bread  and  wine,  and  co-existing 
with  it  in  one  Sacrament.  "  The  eating  and  drinking  of  it  in 
the  Sacrament,"  Thorndike  says,  "presupposed  the  being  of 
it  in  the  Sacrament ;  .  .  .  unless  a  man  can  spiritually  eat 
the  Flesh  and  Blood  of  Christ  in  and  by  the  Sacrament,  which 
is  not  in  the  sacrament  when  he  eats  and  drinks  it,  but  ly 
his  eating  and  drinking  of  it  comes  to  be  there."2  The 
language  of  the  early  Church  on  this  subject  is  so  well  known, 
and  so  large  a  body  of  it  meets  us  in  the  writings  of  the  early 
ages,  that  we  need  not  dwell  long  upon  this  characteristic  of 
early  teaching  on  the  subject  of  the  Eucharist.  But  while  the 
early  ages  held,  as  we  call  it  now,  the  objectiveness  of  the 
inward  part  or  thing  signified  in  the  sacrament,  or  that  the 
Body  and  Blood  was  the  concomitant  of  and  adhered  to  an 
external  and  material  thing  to  which  it  was  united  in  the 

1  Thorndike,  Laws  of  the  Church,  c.  iii.  §  1.  2  Ibid.  c.  ii.  §  12. 


The  Holy  Eucharist.  203 

Sacrament,  we  see  at  the  same  time,  upon  examination  of 
their  language,  that  this  objectiveness  was  held  with  a  very 
important  modification,  which  gives  a  double  aspect  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  Fathers.  The  modification  was  this,  that  the 
Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  could  not  be  eaten  except  by  faith, 
which  was  the  medium  by  which  this  spiritual  food  had  any 
operation  or  function  as  food.  Although,  then,  the  Body  and 
Blood  itself  followed  an  external  test  of  presence,  as  being 
the  concomitants  of  the  material  elements,  the  eating  of  this 
Body  and  Blood  followed  an  internal  test,  and  was  the  con- 
comitant entirely  of  the  state  of  mind  of  the  recipient  of  the 
Sacrament.  Thus  as  food  abstractedly  the  Lord's  Body  was 
objective,  as  eaten  food  it  was  subjective,  and  the  result  of  the 
faith  of  the  partaker.  As  eaten  food  it  parted  company  with  the 
material  elements,  as  the  guarantee,  and  was  transferred  to  a 
totally  different  test  to  be  applied  to  it,  the  moral  and  spiritual 
test,  namely,  of  the  disposition  of  the  receiver.  And  yet  the 
capacity  for  being  eaten  is  so  identical  with  tfie  very  nature  of 
food,  that  where  this  capacity  is  made  to  follow  a  moral  and 
internal  test,  and  not  an  external  or  objective  one,  it  must  be 
granted  that  a  large  qualification  has  taken  place  of  the  objec- 
tive character  of  the  spiritual  food  in  the  Sacrament.  Let  us 
not  indeed  put  aside  that  aspect  of  the  Sacrament,  that  is,  the 
spiritual  food,  as  it  is  an  external  reality,  but  neither  let  us 
dispense  with  the  other  aspect  of  it,  namely,  that  the  eating  of 
that  food  is  subjected  to  a  moral  test. 

The  language  of  the  Fathers  is  not  indeed  free  from  some 
real  and  much  more  apparent  disagreement  on  this  subject.  On 
a  subject  where  language  has  so  many  nice  distinctions  to  keep, 
it  will  not  always  keep  them  ;  nor  avoid  indiscriminateness, 
saying  one  thing  when  it  means  something  else  close  and  con- 
tiguous to  it,  but  still  quite  different  from  it.  Thus  the  rule 
or  custom  by  which  the  bread  itself  was  called  the  Body,  as 
being  the  figure  of  the  Body  ;  and  by  which  the  whole  Sacra- 
ment, not  distinguishing  its  material  part  from  its  spiritual, 
was  called  the  Body,  as  containing  the  Body,  necessarily  led  to 
occasional  confusion  of  language  ;  writers  saying  that  the  Body 
was  always,  and  in  any  case,  eaten  together  with  the  reception 
of  the  Sacrament,  without  any  condition,  when  they  really 


204  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

meant  that  the  bread,  which  was  the  Sacrament  of  the  Body, 
was  eaten.  Where,  however,  this  distinction  was  in  the  writer's 
mind,  a  large  mass  of  language  shows  that  the  true  Body  of 
Christ  in  the  Sacrament  could  not  be  eaten  except  by  the 
medium  of  faith.  St.  Augustine,  who  is  quoted  in  our  Article1 
on  this  point,  has  frequent  similar  statements.  St.  Hilary  says 
— "  The  bread  which  cometh  down  from  heaven  is  not  received 
except  by  him  who  is  a  member  of  Christ." 2  St.  Jerome  says — 
"  Those  who  are  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God, 
neither  eat  His  body,  nor  drink  His  blood;"3  though  he  also 
speaks  of  the  polluted  and  unworthy  approaching  the  altar  and 
drinking  His  blood.  But  the  connection  which  this  latter 
assertion  has  with  the  visible  altar  and  the  open  reception  of 
the  sacrament  gives  the  body  and  blood  here  rather  the  open 
and  sacramental  sense  just  mentioned,  than  the  true  sense. 
"  He  who  obeys  not  Christ,"  says  Prosper,  "  neither  eats  His 
flesh  nor  drinks  His  blood."4  "He  receives  who  approveth 
himself,"  says  Ambrose.  "The  wicked  cannot  eat  the  word 
made  flesh,"  says  Origen.5 

This  modification  indeed  of  the  objective  character  of  the 
spiritual  food  in  the  Sacrament,  involved  in  the  eating  of  it 
not  being  tied  to  the  Sacrament,  but  depending  on  the  faith  of 
the  individual,  is  an  essential  consequence  of  the  very  nature 
of  the  heavenly  food  itself.  The  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  is 
not  a  natural,  but  a  spiritual  substance.  It  can  only  therefore 
be  eaten  spiritually.  To  suppose  that  a  man's  natural  mouth 
and  teeth  can  eat  a  spiritual  thing,  would  be  a  simple  confusion 
of  ideas.  The  eating  of  it  must  be  wholly  in  the  sense  of,  and 
correspond  to  the  nature  of,  the  food.  It  is  in  a  spiritual  sense 
alone  that  a  spiritual  substance  can  be  eaten.  Although, 
then,  the  natural  mouth  and  teeth  can  eat  the  bread  and  wine, 
which  is  the  sign  of  the  Body  and  Blood,  and  the  sign  to  which 
it  is  by  the  divine  ordinance  joined,  the  natural  organs  cannot 
eat  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  which  is  wholly  spiritual. 
Only  the  soul  or  spirit  of  man  can  take  in  and  feed  upon  a 

1  Article  xxix.     S.  Aug.  in  Joann.  Tract,  xxvi.  §  18. 

2  S.  Hilary  de  Trinitate,  lib.  viii.  3  S.  Jerome  in  Isai.  Ixvi.  17. 
4  Sent.  139.  6  Origen  in  Matt.  xv. 


The  Holy  Eucharist.  205 

spiritual  nutriment.  Faith,  therefore,  as  being  the  spiritual 
faculty  in  man,  must  in  its  own  nature  be  the  medium,  by 
which  the  Body  of  Christ  is  eaten;  and  that  Body,  though 
present  in  the  Sacrament,  must  remain  Beaten  by  the  par- 
taker of  the  sacrament  unless  he  has  faith.  Without  faith  it 
can  only  be  eaten  sacramentally,  by  eating  the  bread  which  is 
the  sign  or  sacrament  of  it. 

None  indeed  have  ever  maintained  that  the  body  and  blood 
of  Christ  are  eaten  profitably  except  through  the  medium  of 
faith,  or  spiritually.  It  is  admitted  (even  where  it  is  maintained 
that  the  Body  and  Blood  are  really,  and  in  fact,  eaten  by  carnal 
and  wicked  men  in  the  Sacrament),  that  they  are  still  eaten 
unprofitably,  and  to  the  condemnation  of  the  persons.  But 
nowhere  in  Scripture  do  we  hear  of  an  eating  and  drinking  of 
the  true  Body  and  Blood  of  our  Lord  which  is  not  profitable. 
The  Body  and  Blood  are  of  that  nature,  that  they  are  in  the 
reason  of  the  case,  by  the  simple  fact  of  being  eaten  and  drunk, 
beneficial ;  and  no  such  thing  is  contemplated  as  .a  real  eating  of 
them,  which  is  not  a  beneficial  eating  of  them  also.  "  Whoso 
eateth  my  flesh  and  drinketh  my  blood,"  saith  the  Lord,  "  hath 
eternal  life.  .  .  .  He  that  eateth  my  flesh  and  drinketh  my 
blood,  dwelleth  in  me,  and  I  in  him.  ...  He  that  eateth  me, 
even  he  shall  live  by  me."1  The  spiritual  food  of  our  Lord's 
Body  and  Blood  cannot,  as  has  been  said,  be  eaten  except 
spiritually ;  it  cannot  be  eaten  carnally  by  the  mere  natural 
mouth  and  teeth ;  such  an  idea  is  a  discord  and  a  contradic- 
tion in  reason.  But  if  it  cannot  be  eaten  except  spiritually, 
how  does  the  carnal  man  supply  the  spiritual  medium  and 
instrumentality  of  eating?  The  carnal  man  has  only  the 
natural  mouth  and  teeth  to  apply ;  this  is  all  he  has ;  but 
this  is  totally  irrelevant  to  spiritual  food.  Undoubtedly  the 
carnal  man  has  a  spiritual  principle  in  him,  in  common  with 
the  spiritual  man  in  this  sense,  that  he  has  an  immaterial  soul ; 
even  his  wickedness  is  in  this  sense  spiritual,  that  it  is  the 
wickedness  of  a  spirit,  because  none  but  a  spirit  can  be  wicked ; 
a  man  can  only  be  wicked  by  means  of  his  will,  and  the  will 
is  a  property  of  spirit  and  not  of  matter.  Thus  the  devils  are 

1  John  vi.  54,  57. 


206  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

spiritual  beings  in  the  sense  of  being  immaterial,  and  St.  Paul 
says :  "  We  wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against 
spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places."1  But  it  is  not  spirituality 
in  this  sense,  which  is  all  that  is  meant,  when  it  is  said  that 
the  Body  and  Blood  of  our  Lord  can  only  be  eaten  spiritually ; 
the  spirituality  requisite  for  the  eater  is  more  than  the  mere 
immateriality  of  a  natural  soul ;  and  a  wicked  man  could  not, 
by  means  of  his  wicked  spirit,  though  it  is  spirit,  spiritually 
eat  our  Lord's  flesh.  To  partake  of  our  Lord's  Body  and  Blood 
implies  union  with  our  Lord ;  it  implies  the  fruition  of  Him, 
it  implies  a  cognateness  of  the  eater  to  the  food.  The  Body  and 
Blood  of  our  Lord  are  not  spiritual  food  in  the  immaterial  sense 
only,  but  they  are  spiritual  food  in  the  moral  sense,  as  being 
moral  aliment  and  nutrition,  the  goodness  and  holiness  of  our 
Lord  infusing  itself  into  the  human  soul.  But  to  eat  what  is 
in  this  sense  spiritual  requires  a  state  of  mind  which  is  spiritual 
in  this  sense.  "  The  Body  and  Blood,"  says  Thorndike,  "  is  not 
spiritually  eaten  and  drunk  till  living  faith  make  them  spiritu- 
ally present  to  the  soul,  which  the  consecration  maketh  sacra- 
mentally  present  to  the  body"*  The  wicked  then  cannot  eat  them 
spiritually,  but  the  spiritual  is  the  only  way  in  which  they  can 
be  eaten ;  the  wicked  therefore  cannot  eat  them  at  all. 

Hence  our  divines,  who  maintain  with  the  Catechism  that 
the  inward  part  of  the  Sacrament  is  the  Body  and  Blood  of 
Christ,  still  hold  with  the  Article,  that  without  faith  that  Body 
and  Blood  of  Christ  is  not  eaten  or  partaken  of.  "  Evil  men," 
says  Eidley,  "  do  eat  the  very  true  and  natural  body  of  Christ 
sacramentally  and  no  further,  as  St.  Augustine  saith ;  but  good 
men  do  eat  the  very  true  Body  both  sacramentally  and  spiritually 
by  grace." 3  "  Those  who  eat  unprofitably,"  he  says  again,  "  eat 
the  Sacrament ;"  the  very  flesh  of  Christ  to  be  eaten  must  be 
eaten  spiritually.  "I  say,"  says  Cranmer,  "that  the  same 
visible  and  palpable  flesh  that  was  for  us  crucified,  is  eaten  of 
Christian  people  at  His  Holy  Supper ;  .  .  .  the  diversity  is  not 
in  the  body,  but  in  the  eating  thereof ;  no  man  eating  it  carnally, 
but  the  good  eating  it  both  sacramentally  and  spiritually,  and 

Eph.  vi.  12. 

Laws  of  the  Church,  c.  iii.  §  5.  3  Works,  Parker  Society,  p.  246. 


/ 

The  Holy  Eucharist.  207 

the  evil  only  sacramentally  "^     "All  that  are  partakers  of  this 
sacrament,"  says  Jackson,  "eat  Christ's  body  and  drink  His  blood 
sacramentally,  that  is,  they  eat  that  bread  which  sacramentally 
is  His  body,  and  drink  that  cup  which  is  sacramentally  His 
blood,  whether  they  eat  and  drink  faithfully  or  unfaithfully."  2 
He  limits  the  eating  and  drinking  of  those  who  are  without 
faith,  to  eating  and  drinking  the  sacramental  sign.     Those, 
says  Thorndike,  that  receive  in  a  dead  faith,  "  cannot  be  said  to 
eat  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  which  is  only  the  act  of  a  living 
faith,  without  that  abatement  which  the  premisses  have  estab- 
lished, to  wit,  in  the  Sacrament" 3     " Since  I  proved,"  says  the 
author   of  the    Unbloody  Sacrifice,  "that  what  is  eaten  and 
drunk  in  the  Communion  is  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ 
before  it  is  administered  and  received,  ...  it  may  with  appear- 
ance of  truth  be  from  hence  inferred  that  I  believe  the  Body 
and  Blood  to  be  received  by  the  wicked  hypocritical  communi- 
cants, as  well  as  by  those  who  receive  it  with  true  faith  and 
devotion ;  and  therefore  to  silence  this  objection,  I  shall  show 
from  the  writings  of  the  ancients  (1.)  that  the  wicked  com- 
municant does  externally  eat  and  drink  the  Body  and  Blood, 
but  (2.)  that  he  does  not  do  it  internally.  .  .  .  Although  there 
are  very  few  indeed  that  cannot  externally  eat  the  sacramental 
Body  as  to  its  gross  substance,  which  is  bread,  yet  there  are  very 
great  numbers  of  men  that  cannot  receive  it  internally,  as  it  is 
the  mysterious  body  of  Christ,  ...  for  it  is  a  spiritual  Body, 
not  so  much  intended  for  the  repast  of  our  palates  and  stomachs 
as  of  our  minds."4     Between  such  a  doctrine  as  this  of  faith,  as 
the  necessary  means  by  which  the  Body  of  Christ  is  eaten,  and 
Hooker's  doctrine,  there  is  some  but  no  very  wide  interval— 
the  position  I  mean  of  Hooker,  "that  the  real  Presence  of  Christ's 
Body  and  Blood  is  not  to  be  sought  for  in  the  Sacrament,  but  in 
the  worthy  receiver  of  the  Sacrament,"5  at  the  same  time  that 
he  held  a  true  mystery  in  the  Sacrament  itself — that  it  did 
not  "  import  a  figure  only,"  but  had  an  instrumental  virtue  and 

1  Cranmer,  On  the  Lord's  Supper,  Parker  Society,  p.  224. 

2  Jackson,  On  the  Creed:   Works,  vol.  x.  p.  51,  ed.  1844. 

3  Thorndike,  Laws  of  the  Church,  c.  iii.  §  6. 

4  J.  Johnson's  Unbloody  Sacrifice,  ch.  iv.  §  5. 

5  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  v.  Ixvii.  6. 


208  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

power  attaching  to  it.  "These  holy  mysteries/'  he  says, 
"  received  in  due  manner  do  instrumentally  make  us  partakers 
of  the  grace  of  that  Body  and  Blood  which  were  given  for  the 
life  of  the  world."1 

It  is  not,  however,  to  be  inferred,  because  the  wicked  do 
not  eat  the  very  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  in  the  Sacrament, 
that  therefore  they  only  eat  common  bread  and  wine.  They 
eat  consecrated  material  elements,  to  which  the  mysterious 
property  has  been  imparted  that  the  faithful  receive  and  eat 
in  them  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ.  Common  bread  has  not 
this  property  imparted  to  it,  but  the  bread  in  the  Sacrament 
has.  When  the  wicked  eat  the  sacramental  bread,  then, 
though  they  do  not  eat  the  Lord's  Body,  they  eat  bread  which 
is  in  a  certain  intimate  and  mystical  relation  to  our  Lord's 
Body.  But  for  the  wicked  to  eat  bread  which  is  in  such  a 
relation  to  that  sacred  and  mystical  Body  is  a  profanation.  It 
is  a  pollution  of  a  hallowed  sign  and  symbol,  and  an  effective 
sign  and  symbol,  by  their  unholy  touch ;  and  such  desecration 
and  profanation  of  the  consecrated  elements  endowed  with  so 
divine  a  property  justly  turns  to  their  condemnation.  Thus 
when  St.  Paul  says  to  the  Corinthians,  that  "  whosoever  shall 
eat  this  bread  and  drink  this  cup  of  the  Lord  unworthily 
shall  be  guilty  of  the  body  and  blood  of  the  Lord;  ...  and 
eateth  and  drinketh  damnation  to  himself,  not  discerning  the 
Lord's  body,"2  it  does  not  by  any  means  necessarily  imply  that 
this  profanation  arises,  and  this  condemnation  arises,  from  the 
actual  eating  of  our  Lord's  true  Body,  but  it  does  undoubtedly 
imply  that  there  is  some  sacred  and  close  relation  in  which  the 
bread  and  the  cup  of  the  Lord  do  stand  to  His  Body  and  Blood, 
which  gives  to  the  former  a  true  sanctity,  and  so  renders  them 
capable  of  pollution  and  desecration.  The  wicked  eat  that  to 
which  a  divine  virtue  is  joined,  even  the  property  of  becoming 
to  the  faithful  the  Body  of  our  Lord.  This  virtue  is  joined  to 
the  consecrated  bread,  independently  of  our  faith,  and  the 
wicked  who  eat  it  eat  it  with  this  virtue  attaching  to  it,  which 
cannot  leave  it,  namely,  that  the  very  same  bread,  if  eaten  by  the 
faithful,  would  be  spiritual  nourishment  to  them,  which  common 

1  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  v.  Ixvii.  8.  2  1  Cor.  xi.  27. 


The  Holy  Eucharist.  209 

bread  could  not  be.  And  it  appears  to  me  that  this  is  substan- 
tially what  is  meant  by  the  strong  statements  of  Bishop  Poynet, 
with  respect  to  wicked  men's  mode  of  partaking  of  the  sacrament, 
— statements  which  claim  for  the  material  elements  a  junction 
with  the  thing  signified  by  them  even  while  the  wicked  eat 
them.  "  As  to  the  denial/'  he  says,  "  that  the  wicked  can  eat  the 
body  of  Christ,  we  must  make  a  distinction.  For  if  we  regard 
the  nature  of  the  Sacrament,  divine  virtue  cannot  be  absent 
from  the  sign  in  so  far  as  it  is  a  Sacrament;"  and  he  quotes 
Cyprian,  who  says,  "Sacraments  cannot  exist  without  their  own 
virtue,  nor  can  the  Divine  Majesty  be  ever  absent  from  the 
mysteries."  "  The  Sacraments,"  he  continues,  "  so  long  as  they 
are  Sacraments,  retain  their  own  virtue,  nor  can  they  be  separated 
therefrom.  For  they  always  consist  of  their  own  parts,  an 
earthly  and  a  heavenly,  and  an  inward  and  an  outward,  whether 
the  good  take  them  or  the  bad,  whether  the  worthy  or  the  un- 
worthy. Howbeit  that  commutation  of  the  signs  and  transition 
of  the  elements  into  the  inward  substance,  which  everywhere 
occurs  in  the  ancient  writers,  cannot  exist,  if  we  separate  the 
virtue  from  the  sign,  and  attempt  to  take  the  one  apart  from 
the  other.  But  this  is  to  be  understood,  so  long  as  the  sign 
serves  its  use  and  is  adapted  to  the  end  for  which  it  was 
destined  by  the  Word  of  God.  .  .  .  Should  there  be  any  who 
think  that  there  is  too  much  here  ascribed  to  the  elements,  it 
is  not  so,  but  its  due  reverence  is  given  to  the  external  symbols 
on  account  of  their  sacred  use,  and  the  inward  virtue  which  is 
added  by  the  power  of  the  divine  words."1  What  this  language 
appears  to  mean  is,  that  the  material  symbols  are  ever  accom- 
panied by  a  divine  virtue  and  property,  which  adheres  to  them, 
by  the  very  nature  of  the  sacraments,  and  that  therefore  even 
when  the  wicked  eat  and  drink  them,  that  virtue  still  belongs 
to  and  accompanies  them ;  the  invisible  part  is  still  joined  to 
the  visible,  but  it  does  not  imply  that  the  wicked  eat  the  thing 
signified  itself, — that  they  eat  the  Body  and  Blood  which  is  the 
inward  part  of  the  Sacrament. 

1  Bishop  Poynet,  Diallacticon  de  veritate  natura  atque  substantia  corporls  et 
sanguinis  Christi  in  Eucharistia  (first  published,  1557),  pp.  76-78,  81,  ed. 
London,  1688. 

0 


2  io  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

The  primitive  doctrine,  then,  of  the  Eucharist,  thus  introduc- 
ing faith  as  the  medium  by  which  the  body  of  Christ  is  eaten  in 
the  sacrament,  that  is,  applying  a  modification  to  the  external 
or  objective  character  of  the  res  sacramenti,  this  was  departed 
from  in  the  later  and  mediaeval  doctrine.  It  appeared  to  be  a 
more  whole,  complete,  and  consistent  view  of  the  Sacrament,  to 
regard  the  eating  of  the  Body  of  Christ  as  essentially  and  in- 
variably attending  upon  the  Sacrament  itself.  And  the  doctrine 
of  Transubstantiation  which  inserted  the  Body  of  Christ  in  the 
place  of  the  very  substance  of  the  Bread,  thus  making  it  succeed 
to  the  position  of  the  very  material  substratum  of  the  bread, 
necessarily  carried  with  it  this  result.  But  when  the  doctrine 
of  the  Eucharist  came  under  revision  at  the  Reformation,  our 
Church  reverted  to  the  original  and  more  modified  condition 
and  form  of  the  doctrine,  by  which,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Body 
and  Blood  of  our  Lord  was  by  the  act  of  consecration,  indepen- 
dently of  the  faith  of  the  individual,  the  inward  part  of  the 
Sacrament,  and  on  the  other  hand,  that  Body  and  Blood  were  not 
eaten  in  the  Sacrament  except  by  the  medium  of  faith.  This 
was  a  qualification  of  the  rigorous  and  compact  whole  which 
later  speculation  had  made, — a  departure  from  that  unity  which 
one-sided  theorising  creates;  but  it  wasareversion  to  the  original 
and  genuine  doctrine,  which,  as  being  less  definite  and  precise, 
and  more  twofold  in  its  statements,  was  also  the  truer  and  more 
authentic.  Spiritual  truth  does  not  consult  the  intellectual 
and  philosophical  standard,  and  aim  at  a  systematic  unity,  but 
is  truth  of  a  vaguer  and  more  natural  and  more  inclusive  sort. 

2.  ADORATION. — Again,  upon  another  subject  connected 
with  Eucharistic  doctrine,  our  Church  reverted  to  an  earlier 
application  and  interpretation  of  the  principle  maintained 
upon  this  subject.  I  refer  to  the  question  of  the  adoration 
paid  to  Christ's  Body  in  the  Sacrament.  When  we  examine 
ancient  language  on  this  subject,  we  find  large  differences 
in  its  composition ;  that  it  contains  a  great  quantity  of  irre- 
levant statement  which  does  not  really  apply  to  the  point  at 
issue,  mixed — in  a  way  which  makes  it  very  difficult  to 
extricate  it — with  the  really  relevant  and  pertinent  kind  of 
statement.  Thus  there  is  a  large  mass  of  statement  to  the 


The  Holy  Eucharist.  2 1 1 

effect  that  Christ  should  be  specially  and  peculiarly  worshipped 
in  the  whole  act  of  partaking  of  the  Sacrament  of  His  Body 
and  Blood.  But  this  language  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
the  worship  of  Christ  under  material  sacramental  elements. 
There  are  thus  two  wholly  different  kinds  of  statements  mixed 
together  in  the  general  language  relating  to  adoration  of  our 
Lord  in  the  Eucharist.  One  of  these  kinds  of  statement  expresses 
only  an  adoration  accompanying  the  act  of  receiving,  the  other 
expresses  an  adoration  of  Him  as  contained  in  some  sense  in 
that  which  is  received  :  one  denotes  only  the  worship  of  Christ 
as  generally  present  in  and  at  the  Eucharistic  rite ;  the  other 
signifies  a  worship  of  Him  as  specially  present  under  the 
species  of  bread  and  wine.  Of  these  two  kinds  of  statement 
one,  as  I  have  just  said,  has  no  real  bearing  upon  the  particular 
question  of  adoration  in  the  Eucharist,  as  that  phrase  is  under- 
stood in  controversy.  All  Christians,  of  whatever  Church  or 
party,  would  admit  the  adoration  of  our  Lord  in  this  general 
sense  in  the  Eucharist :  namely,  that  when  a  man  partakes  of  the 
Eucharist,  he  does  worship  Christ.  But  this  is  not  worshipping 
Him  as  present  or  in  any  way  contained  in  the  bread  and 
wine.  "  We  worship  Christ,"  says  Kidley,  "  wheresoever  we 
perceive  His  benefits,  but  we  understand  His  benefits  to  be 
greatest  in  the  Sacrament."1  And  in  the  following  extract 
Thorndike  does  not  express  more  than  what  any  Christian 
would  admit : — "  I  suppose,"  he  says,  "  it  is  the  duty  of  every 
Christian  to  honour  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  God  subsisting 
in  human  flesh,  whether  by  professing  Him  such,  or  by  praying 
to  Him  as  such,  or  by  using  any  bodily  gesture,  which  may 
serve  to  signify  that  worship  of  the  heart  which  inwardly 
commands  it.  This  honour,  then,  being  a  duty,  ....  what 
remains  but  a  just  occasion  to  make  it  requisite  ?  .  .  .  .  And 
is  not  the  presence  of  Christ's  flesh  in  the  sacrament  of  the 
Eucharist  a  just  occasion  to  express,  by  the  bodily  act  of 
adoration,  that  inward  honour  which  we  always  carry  towards 
our  Lord  Christ  as  God  ?"2  In  this  passage  then  the  worship 
paid  to  Christ  in  the  Sacrament  is  not  a  worship  paid  to  Him 
as  present  under  the  form  of  the  sacramental  elements  ;  but  it 

1  Works,  Parker  Society,  p.  236.  2  Laws  of  the  Church,  c.  xxxi.  §  3,  4. 


2  1 2  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

is  only  the  worship  which  is  always  paid  to  Him,  as  existing 
invisibly  always  in  the  form  of  man  and  human  nature,  only 
paid  to  Him  upon  the  particular  opportunity  of  the  Sacrament. 
The  Body  and  Blood  in  the  Sacrament  is  not  the  object  of  the 
worship,  but  only  the  occasion  of  it.  "  The  celebration  of  the 
Eucharist,"  he  says, "  is  a  competent  occasion  for  executing  that 
worship  which  is  always  due  to  our  Lord  Christ  Incarnate."1 
"  Place  thyself  upon  thy  knees,"  says  Bishop  Jeremy  Taylor,  "  in 
the  humblest  and  devoutest  posture  of  worshippers,  and  think 
not  much  in  the  lowest  manner  to  worship  the  King  of  men 
and  angels,  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  the  great  Lover  of 
souls,  and  the  Saviour  of  the  body.  .  .  .  For  if  Christ  be  not 
there  after  a  peculiar  manner,  whom  or  whose  body  do  we 
receive  ?  But  if  He  be  present  to  us  not  in  mystery  only  but 
in  blessing  also,  why  do  we  not  worship?"2  The  worship 
described  in  this  passage  is  the  worship  of  Christ  present  in  a 
special  way  in -the  great  act  of  Christian  communion,  but  it  is 
not  the  worship  of  Christ  under  the  outward  form  of  the 
material  elements.  There  is  a  great  difference  of  course  between 
a  general  presence  of  Christ  in  the  act  of  communion,  and  a 
particular  presence  united  to  the  bread  and  wine. 

Separating  this  general  language  then  from  that  particular 
body  of  language  which  asserts  an  adoration  in  special  con- 
nection with  the  material  elements,  we  find  in  the  first  place 
that  in  all  earlier  language,  and  in  the  language  of  our  own 
divines  which  represents  the  earlier  ages,  adoration  is  addressed 
to  the  Body  and  Blood  of  OUT  Lord,  and  that  that,  and  that  only, 
is  the  object  to  which  it  is  addressed.  Our  divines,  indeed, 
when  speaking  of  the  partaking  in  Communion,  speak  of  Christ 
simply  being  received,  not  making  any  distinction  between  the 
Body  and  Blood  and  the  divinity  of  Christ ;  nor  is  such  an 
extension  of  the  res  sacramenti  other  than  natural,  nor  can 
any  injurious  consequence  follow  it,  in  connection  with  the 
sacrament  as  spiritual  food  ;  the  boundaries  and  limitations 
of  mystical  language  are  not  to  be  very  accurately  restricted 
where  no  practical  danger  can  ensue.  But  as  regards  the 
adoration  in  the  Eucharist,  the  act  of  adoration  has  been 

1  Laws  of  the  Church,  c.  xxxi.  §  6.  2  Taylor's  Worthy  Communicant. 


The  Holy  Eucharist.  213 

assigned  specially  to  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  as  its  object ; 
that  being  the  strict  and  proper  res  sacramenti ;  and  not  to 
the  divinity  of  Christ,  which  is  not  properly  or  strictly  the  res 
sacramenti,  or  united  with  the  material  elements.  The  whole 
language  of  antiquity  establishes  the  Body  and  Blood  as  that 
which  is  in  sacramental  connection  with  the  bread  and  wine. 
The  divinity  is  not  represented  as  placed  in  this  sacramental 
union  with  the  material  elements.  It  is  quite  true  indeed  that 
wherever  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  are,  there  by  strict 
reasoning  must  be  the  human  soul  and  the  Divinity  of  Christ ; 
it  is  impossible  to  separate  what  are  in  their  own  nature  united. 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  this  is  a  mystical  subject, 
and  that  in  mystical  doctrine  we  cannot  proceed  in  this  way 
by  logical  steps.  In  mystical  doctrine  we  must  take  the  form 
of  statement  which  is  given  to  us,  and  not  exceed  it;  because 
if  the  truth  is  given  in  a  certain  form  and  measure,  and  with 
certain  limits  and  confines,  we  must  assume  that  it  is  inten- 
tionally so  given,  and  for  a  divine  purpose.  Earlier  writers 
and  our  own  divines  then  adhere  cautiously  and  faithfully  to 
Scripture,  in  speaking  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  as  the 
res  sacramenti  in  the  Eucharist,  and  in  assigning  the  act  of 
adoration  in  the  Eucharist  to  the  Body  and  Blood.  It  was 
therefore  a  qualified  and  conditioned  kind  of  adoration  which 
patristic  theology  connected  specially  with  the  Eucharist. 
For  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  are  not  in  themselves  objects 
of  divine  adoration  arid  worship ;  they  only  admit  of  a  worship 
which  is  paid  to  them  indirectly  by  reason  of  their  intimate  con- 
nection with  that  which  is  an  object  of  direct  adoration,  namely, 
the  Divinity  of  Christ :  they  can  only  receive  that  reflected 
Divinity  which  comes  from  the  Person  of  Christ,  and  consequently 
only  a  secondary  worship.  "  The  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ," 
says  Thorndike,  "  is  not  adored  nor  to  be  adored  by  Christians  for 
any  endowment  residing  in  it  ...  but  in  consideration  of  the 
Godhead,  to  which  it  remains  inseparably  united  ...  in  which 
Godhead  therefore  that  honour  resteth  and  to  which  it  tendeth. 
—So  the  Godhead  of  Christ  is  the  thing  that  is  honoured,  and 
the  reason  why  it  is  honoured  both."1  Thus  the  very  constitution 

1  Laws  of  the  Church,  c.  xxx.  §  2. 


214  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

of  the  Sacrament  contained  in  itself  a  check  upon  any  idolatrous 
use  of  it ;  because  by  the  very  law  of  the  Sacrament  that  which 
was  the  inner  part  or  thing  signified  was  confined  and  restricted 
to  the  Body  and  Blood ;  which  material  part  of  our  Lord  did 
not  admit  of  direct  adoration  being  paid  to  it.  The  sacramental 
connection  with  the  material  elements  only  covered  an  object 
of  indirect  worship  ;  the  object  of  direct  worship  or  the 
Godhead  was  not  contained  under  the  material  elements.  The 
Body  and  Blood  admitted  indeed  only  of  a  higher  degree  of  that 
worship  and  reverence  which  is  paid  to  all  objects  intimately 
joined  by  service  or  dedication  to  the  Divine  Majesty.  "  The 
saying,  '  worship  His  footstool,' "  says  Bishop  Poynet,  "  many 
understand  of  the  ark  of  the  covenant  .  .  .  which  was  to  be 
worshipped  on  account  of  the  presence  of  the  Divine  Majesty. 
And  in  the  same  manner,"  he  says,  "  we  may  worship  the 
Eucharist  on  account  of  the  ineffable  and  invisible  grace  of 
Christ  joined  to  it.  'He/  says  Augustine,  'who  venerates  a 
useful  sign  instituted  by  God,  does  not  venerate  the  transient 
thing  which  he  sees,  but  rather  that  to  which  all  such  things 
are  to  be  referred.'"1  "There  is  a  deceit,"  says  Eidley, 
"in  this  word  ' adoramus?  We  worship  the  symbols,  when 
reverently  we  handle  them.  ...  If  you  mean  the  external  sacra- 
ment, I  say  that  also  is  to  be  worshipped  as  a  sacrament."2 
The  reverence  then  that  is  paid  to  sacred  signs  and  symbols, 
and  to  all  objects  which  are  associated  with  the  Divine  Majesty, 
is  a  worship  or  adoration  in  a  secondary  sense  ;  and  a  fortiori 
may  our  Lord's  Body  and  Blood,  as  being  joined  not  by 
association,  but  by  the  truth  of  nature,  with  His  Divinity, 
receive  that  worship.  But  the  worship  given  specially  in  the 
Eucharist  was  such  subordinate  worship — worship  paid  to  that 
which  was  intimately  connected  with  Divinity,  not  to  the 
Divinity  itself.  The  mind  of  the  worshipper  was  necessarily 
carried  indeed  to  the  direct  worship  of  the  Divinity  of  Christ, 
but  in  so  doing  it  went  out  of  the  area  and  limits  of  the 
sacrament,  and  worshipped  the  God  of  God,  Light  of  Light, 
Very  God  of  Very  God,  by  whom  all  things  were  made. 

But  when  later  theology  took  up  the  subject  of  the  adora- 

1  Bp.  Poynet,  Diallacticon,  p.  75,  ut  supra. 

2  Ridley's  Works,  Parker  Society,  p.  236. 


The  Holy  Eucharist*  2 1 5 

tion  in  the  Eucharist,  it  instituted  a  very  different  kind  of 
adoration.  In  later  theology,  in  the  first  place,  the  res  sacra- 
menti  was  not  only  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  but  was  the 
whole  Christ,  Body,  Soul,  and  Godhead.  "Totus  et  integer 
Christus,"  says  the  Council  of  Trent,  "  sub  panis  specie,  et  sub 
quavis  ipsius  speciei  parte ;  totus  item,  sub  vini  specie  et  sub 
ejus  partibus  existit."  The  Council  includes  expressly  "sub 
specie  panis  et  vini "  not  only  the  Body  and  Blood,  but  the 
Soul  of  Christ,  and  the  Godhead  of  Christ — "  propter  admira-- 
bilem  illam  eius  cum  corpore  et  anima  hypostaticam  unionem."1 
But,  the  inward  part  of  the  sacrament  being  thus  defined, 
when  it  came  to  the  adoration  of  the  res  sacramenti,  that 
adoration  necessarily  became,  not  the  indirect  worship  of  what 
was  in  natural  conjunction  with  the  Divinity,  but  the  direct 
adoration  of  the  Godhead  itself,  existing  under  the  species  of 
Bread  and  Wine.  But  without  entering  into  the  question  of 
the  criterion  by  which  we  define  idolatry,  or  at  all  asserting 
that  the  worship  of  the  true  God,  though  under  an  unauthorised 
material  form,  is  idolatry,  we  must  still  see  that  this  express 
adoration  of  the  Godhead,  as  subsisting  under  the  visible 
material  form  of  bread,  holds  a  place  very  distinct  from,  and  is 
divided  by  a  great  interval  from,  the  primitive  adoration  of  the 
Body  and  Blood.  The  Eoman  definition  of  the  res  sacramenti 
clears  away  all  modification,  frees  the  worship  in  the  sacra- 
ment of  all  check,  and  establishes  a  distinct  localised  object  of 
divine  adoration  which  the  genuine  constitution  of  the  sacra- 
ment had  implicitly  provided  against. 

A  different  character,  again,  was  given  to  the  act  of  adora- 
tion by  insulating  it,  by  making  it  independent  of  the  act  of 
communion,  and  separating  it  from  all  its  natural  place  in  the 
Sacrament.  In  early  writers  it  is  subordinated  to  the  main 
object  and  scope  of  the  Sacrament,  namely,  a  partaking  of  the 
spiritual  food  of  Christ's  body  and  blood.  Thus  St.  Augus- 
tine's expression,  "  No  one  eats  that  flesh  without  first  adoring," 
while  it  inculcates  an  adoration,  at  the  same  time,  by  its  very 
form,  implies  that  it  is  an  adoration  given  in  the  course  of  the 
act  of  communion,  and  in  connection  with  that  reception  of  the 

1  Concil.   Trident.   Canones   et  Decreta,    Sessio  xiii.,    cap.   iii.  ad  fimm 
(p.  67,  ed.  Lovanii,  1567). 


2 1 6  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

food  which  is  the  main  design  of  the  Sacrament.  But  later 
and  mediaeval  practice  divided  the  adoration  from  the  Sacra- 
ment. The  Bread  was  kept  for  adoration;  was  elevated, 
carried  in  processions,  and  offered  to  the  worship  of  the  people, 
apart  from,  and  wholly  disconnected  with,  its  office  and  use 
in  the  Sacrament  as  spiritual  food.  Our  Church  recalled  the 
worship  not  only  to  its  proper  kind  and  nature,  as  indirect ; 
but  also  to  its  proper  place,  as  an  act  connected  with,  but  sub- 
ordinate to,  the  main  purpose  of  the  sacrament ;  and  in  the 
28th  Article  declared  that  the  "sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper 
was  not  by  Christ's  ordinance  reserved,  carried  about,  lifted  up 
and  worshipped." 

III.  SACRIFICE. — We  come  to  another  point.  On  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Eucharistic  Sacrifice  the  language  of  our  divines  has 
been  very  consentient  and  uniform ;  they  have  almost  with  one 
voice  maintained  a  commemorative  and  representative  Sacrifice, 
in  agreement  with  the  belief  of  antiquity.  The  popular  belief 
of  later  times  exaggerated  the  Eucharistic  Sacrifice  till  it 
became,  to  all  intents  and  purpose,  a  real  one,  and  "  the  priest 
offered  up  Christ  on  the  altar  for  quick  and  dead,  to  have 
remission  of  pain  and  guilt ;"  that  is  to  say,  offered  Him  up  as 
a  Victim,  in  a  sense  which  could  not  be  distinguished  from 
that  in  which  He  was  offered  up  by  Himself  on  the  Cross.  It 
is  true  that  the  decree  of  the  Council  of  Trent  just  saves  itself 
by  cautious,  not  to  say  dissembling,  language,  from  the  extreme 
and  monstrous  conclusion  that  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  is  the 
very  same  with  that  upon  the  Cross.  It  distinguishes  between 
a  bloody  and  an  unbloody  oblation ;  and  it  states  that  the  fruits 
or  consequences  of  the  Bloody  Oblation  or  the  Sacrifice  on  the 
Cross  are  "received  through  the  unbloody  one" — Oblationis 
cruentae  fructus  per  hanc  incruentam  percipiuntur  :  but  at  the 
same  time  it  asserts  that  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass  is  a  really 
propitiatory  sacrifice — vere  propitiatorium.  JN"ow  undoubtedly 
there  are  two  distinct  senses  in  which  an  act  may  be  said  to 
be  propitiatory.  The  act  of  Christ's  Sacrifice  on  the  Cross  had 
an  original  propitiatory  power  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  was  the  cause 
of  any  other  act,  or  any  act  of  man,  or  any  rite  being  propitia- 
tory, that  is,  appeasing  God's  anger,  and  reconciling  Him.  to 
the  agent.  We  may  allow  that  in  common  language  a  man 


The  Holy  Eucharist.  2 1 7 

may  do  something  which  will  reconcile  God  to  him,  and  restore 
him  to  God's  favour ;  but  then  all  the  power  that  any  action 
of  man  can  have  for  this  end  is  a  derived  power,  derived  from 
Christ's  sacrifice,  from  which  any  other  sacrifice,  the  Euchar- 
istic  one  included,  borrows  its  virtue,  and  without  which  it 
would  be  wholly  null  and  void.  There  is,  then,  an  original 
propitiation  and  a  borrowed  propitiation,  a  first  propitiation 
and  a  secondary  one.  Why  then  did  the  Fathers  of  Trent, 
when  they  had  all  human  language  at  their  command,  deliber- 
ately choose  to  call  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  vere  propitia- 
torium  ?  They  may  have  said  that  it  was  vere  propitiatorium 
in  the  secondary  sense ;  but  no  one  can  fail  to  see  the  mis- 
leading effect  of  such  language,  and  that  nothing  could  have 
been  easier  to  the  divines  of  Trent,  had  they  chosen,  than  to 
draw  a  far  more  clear  distinction  than  they  did  between  the 
Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  and  the  Sacrifice  on  the  Cross.  It  is 
evident  that,  as  ecclesiastical  statesmen,  they  were  afraid  of 
interfering  with  the  broad  popular  established  view  of  the  Mass, 
while  as  theologians  they  just  contrived  to  secure  themselves 
from  the  responsibility  of  a  monstrous  dogmatic  statement. 

It  was  thus  that  our  Church  at  the  Eeformation  recalled 
the  doctrine  of  the  Eucharist  to  its  proper  proportions,  and 
corrected  the  errors  and  extravagances  into  which  later  theo- 
logy had  been  led.  She  relieved  the  change  in  the  elements 
from  the  interpolation  of  Transubstantiation,  and  from  that 
false,  rigid  completeness  and  system  which  the  schools  of  the 
Middle  Ages  had  given  it.  She  restored  Eaith  as  the  medium 
by  which  the  Body  of  Christ  is  eaten.  She  restored  the  true 
limits  of  the  adoration  in  the  Eucharist,  and  of  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Eucharist. 

I  will  conclude  with  the  reflection,  that  amid  the  various 
explanations  of  the  manner  in  which  the  mystery  of  this 
Sacrament  is  to  be  expressed,  the  mode  of  change,  the  kind  of 
change,  the  relation  of  the  material  element  or  sign,  to  the 
inner  part  or  thing  signified ;  the  relation  of  the  whole  Sacra- 
ment to  the  mind  and  faith  of  the  partaker ;  one.  central  truth 
remains,  retaining  which  we  retain  the  true  substance  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  Eucharist,  namely,  that  it  is  a  true  participation 
of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  which  are  verily  and  indeed 


2 1 8  The  Holy  Eucharist. 

taken  and  received  by  the  faithful  in  that  Sacrament.  Various 
degrees  of  importance  may  attach  to  circumstantial  points — to 
Transubstantiation  in  the  Eomanist's  view,  to  Consubstantiation 
in  the  Lutheran;  and  different  ideas  may  be  entertained 
among  ourselves  as  to  the  sense  in  which  the  Body  and  Blood 
are  contained  in  the  Sacrament,  or  the  Sacrament  transmuted 
into  them,  antecedently  to  the  participation  of  the  receiver.  I 
do  not  by  any  means  intend  to  say  that  upon  this  latter 
question  there  is  not  a  grave  truth  and  a  grave  error ;  but  I 
must  say  with  Hooker  that  the  question  does  not  relate  to 
necessary  belief  in  regard  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Sacrament ; 
and  that  a  true  participation  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ 
is  the  fundamental  truth  of  the  Eucharist.  In  Hooker's 
language — "  Whereas  therefore  there  are  but  three  expositions 
made  of  'this  is  my  body;'  the  first,  'this  is  in  itself,  before 
participation,  really  and  truly  the  natural  substance  of  my 
Body  by  reason  of  the  co-existence  which  my  omnipresent 
Body  hath  with  the  sanctified  element  of  bread,'  which  is  the 
Lutheran's  interpretation  :  the  second,  '  this  is  itself,  and  before 
participation,  the  very  true  and  natural  substance  of  my  Body, 
by  force  of  that  Deity  which  with  the  words  of  consecration 
abolish eth  the  substance  of  bread,  and  substitute th  in  the 
place  thereof  my  Body,'  which  is  the  Popish  construction  :  the 
last, '  this  hallowed  food,  through  concurrence  of  Divine  Power, 
is  in  verity  and  truth,  unto  faithful  receivers,  instrumentally 
a  cause  of  that  mystical  participation,  whereby,  as  I  make 
myself  wholly  theirs,  so  I  give  them  in  hand  an  actual  posses- 
sion of  all  such  saving  grace  as  my  sacrificed  Body  can  yield, 
and  as  their  souls  do  presently  need,  this  is  to  them  and  in 
them  my  Body/  Of  these  three  rehearsed  interpretations  the 
last  hath  in  it  nothing  but  what  the  rest  do  all  approve  and 
acknowledge  to  be  most  true,  nothing  but  that  which  the 
words  of  Christ  are  on  all  sides  confessed  to  enforce,  nothing 
but  that  which  the  Church  of  God  hath  always  thought 
necessary,  nothing  but  that  which  alone  is  sufficient  for  every 
Christian  man  to  believe  concerning  the  use  and  force  of  this 
Sacrament."1 

1  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  v.  Ixvii.  12. 


2IQ 


XV.— LETTER  TO  THE  REV.  PROFESSOR  STANLEY 

ON  THE  ARTICLES. 

(1863.) 

MY  DEAE  PKOFESSOR  STANLEY, — You  will  not,  I  am  sure, 
be  surprised  if  the  appearance  of  your  Letter  to  the  Bishop  of 
London  on  the  State  of  Subscription  in  the  Church  of  England 
excites  great  attention.  The  proposal  to  do  away  with  the 
whole  of  our  existing  subscriptions,  coming  from  one  of  such 
position — academical  and  ecclesiastical — such  wide  and  justly- 
acquired  influence,  and  a  personal  character  which  has  won  the 
attachment  of  so  many  of  all  parties  in  the  Church,  must  raise 
serious  thought.  You  also  quote  the  important  observation  of  the 
Bishop  of  London,  made  in  his  Lordship's  recent  Charge,  that 
"the  whole  subject  of  what  our  subscriptions  ought  to  be 
requires,  and  must  receive,  immediate  attention  " — an  obser- 
vation which,  coming  from  so  high  a  quarter,  indicates  a  critical 
state  of  things — that  this  question  is  now  removed  from  the 
settled  basis  upon  which  it  has  so  long  rested,  and  is,  to  a 
certain  extent,  re- opened. 

I  will,  therefore,  with  your  kind  permission,  address  a  few 
remarks  to  you  on  this  subject ;  and  first,  I  will  state  the  limits 
which  I  propose  to  myself.  It  is  not  my  intention  to  go  into 
the  whole  of  the  contents  of  this  momentous  question,  which 
would  be  too  large  a  field  for  a  pamphlet.  There  are  particular 
statements  in  our  Articles  connected  with  the  Eoman  contro- 
versy ;  and  there  is  also  the  subscription  to  the  Prayer-book, 
as  imposed  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity.  Both  of  these  calls  for 
assent  are  supposed  to  constitute  a  grievance  in  two  different 
quarters.  But  I  shall  take  a  set  of  Articles,  the  characteristic 
difficulty  of  which  is  their  apparent  collision,  not  only  with 
tenets  of  divines,  but  with  common  sense  and  natural  feeling — 


22O          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

a  ground  of  objection  felt  by  a  larger  class  than  the  theological 
one.  I  refer  to  the  Articles  from  IX.  to  XVII.,  relating  to  the 
process  of  man's  salvation,  and  containing  statements  apparently 
opposed  to  free  will  and  to  the  existence  of  the  slightest 
goodness  in  man  in  a  state  of  nature.  This  is  my  field  of 
material,  then,  and  with  respect  to  this  material  I  shall  limit 
myself  to  one  point  of  view  which  I  will  explain,  and  for  the 
explanation  of  which  I  will  ask  a  little  preliminary  space. 

It  appears  to  me  a  point  which  has  not  been  sufficiently 
attended  to  in  our  controversies  on  the  subject  of  Subscription, 
that  where  the  language  of  a  doctrinal  formulary  and  the 
language  of  the  Bible  are  the  same,  whatever  explanation  we 
give,  in  case  there  is  a  difficulty,  of  the  language  of  the  -Bible 
is  applicable  to  the  language  of  the  formulary  as  well ;  and  that, 
therefore,  in  such  a  case,  the  statement  in  the  formulary  is  no 
fresh  difficulty,  but  only  one  which  we  have  already  surmounted 
in  accepting  the  same  statement  in  the  Bible.  In  such  a  case 
the  formulary  is  not,  in  truth,  responsible  for  the  apparently 
obnoxious  nature  of  the  assertion  it  makes ;  nor  does  a  person 
who  has  already  assented  to  the  same  declaration  in  Scripture 
incur  any  new  responsibility  when  he  assents  to  the  formulary. 
This  appears  to  be  a  very  simple  and  natural  rule,  and  yet  it 
is  one  which  a  great  many  serious  and  most  intelligent  persons 
never  think  of  applying  when  they  encounter  difficulties  in  our 
formularies.  Their  minds  are  in  a  different  state  and  attitude 
when  they  read  the  Bible  from  that  in  which  they  read  a  doc- 
trinal formulary.  I  do  not  mean  simply  that  they  know  the 
Bible  to  be  inspired,  and  the  other  document  not ;  but  that,  as 
readers,  they  are  freer,  more  natural,  more  liberal  in  interpreting 
the  meaning  of  Scripture,  than  they  are  in  interpreting  the  mean- 
ing of  a  formulary,  even  when  it  is  exactly  the  same  language 
which  is  used  in  both.  They  come  with  the  expectation  of 
finding  ugly  and  repulsive  matter  in  the  human  document; 
and  when,  therefore,  they  do  find  what  at  first  sight  is  such, 
they  fasten  upon  it  that  primd  facie  meaning  as  the  true  and 
real  meaning  of  the  formulary,  and  will  not  let  it  go.  No  ;  that 
is  its  meaning,  and  that  shall  be  its  meaning,  and  nobody  shall 
persuade  them  that  it  is  not.  Whereas,  when  they  came  across 


on  the  Articles.  221 

the  very  same  statement  in  the  Bible,  they  accepted,  it  with 
a  natural  and  obvious  qualification. 

To  take  the  commonly- quoted  instance  of  the  damnatory 
clauses,  as  they  are  called,  in  the  Athanasian  Creed,  which 
assert  of  the  "  Catholic  faith,"  that  "  except  a  man  believe  it 
faithfully  he  cannot  be  saved."  The  difficulty  which  is  felt 
about  this  assertion  in  the  Athanasian  Creed  does  not  at  all 
relate  to  the  nature  of  the  credendum,  or  subject-matter  of 
belief — the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity — but  to  condemnation  on 
account  of  simple  belief.  Yet  this  point  of  condemnation  on 
account  of  belief  is  stated  in  Scripture  as  strongly  as  in  this 
Creed.  It  is  asserted  in  terms,  absolutely  and  positively,  "  He 
that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved;  but  he  that 
believeth  not  shall  be  damned."  How  is  it,  then,  that  when 
those  who  object  to  the  statement  of  condemnation  on  account 
of  belief,  when  they  meet  it  in  the  Athanasian  Creed,  did  not 
object  to  the  same  statement  when  they  encountered  it  in 
Scripture  ?  The  reason  is  obvious — that  when  they  met  this 
statement  in  Scripture  they  gave  it  the  benefit  of  a  liberal 
interpretation.  They  did  not  suppose  for  an  instant  that  this 
text  could  mean  that  God,  who  is  just  and  merciful,  would 
condemn  a  man  simply  on  account  of  his  not  believing  certain 
truths,  apart  from  all  consideration  of  disadvantages  of  educa- 
tion, early  prejudices,  and  want  of  opportunities  and  means  of 
enlightenment.  They  therefore  regarded  it  immediately,  I 
might  say  unconsciously,  as  containing  the  unexpressed  con- 
dition of  moral  responsibility,  and  understood  the  condemnation 
only  to  apply  to  such  as  did  not  believe  in  consequence  of 
faults  of  their  own.  But  if  they  gave  the  assertion  this  liberal 
interpretation  when  they  met  it  in  the  Bible,  why  cannot  they 
give  it  the  same  interpretation  when  they  meet  it  in  the 
Athanasian  Creed  ?  And  if  they  do,  this  assertion  in  the  Creed 
can  be  no  burden  to  them :  it  only  asserts  what  Scripture 
asserts,  and  need  only  mean  what  Scripture  means. 

It  often  depends  entirely  on  the  simple  eye  with  which  we 
look  upon  a  statement,  whether  we  see  in  it  a  reasonable  or  a 
monstrous  assertion.  In  reading  Scripture,  these  interpreters 
saw  the  statement  I  am  referring  to  in  a  natural  light;  it 


222          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

never  occurred  to  them  to  suppose  that  it  could  mean,  really, 
what  it  did  mean  rigidly  and  literally;  they  used  a  free 
rational  discretion  in  the  way  in  which  they  understood  it. 
But  when  they  came  to  the  same  statement  in  a  Creed,  they 
forgot  natural  interpretation,  and  adopted  artificial.  I  say 
artificial,  because  there  is  nothing  in  fact  so  contrary  to  natural 
interpretation,  in  many  cases,  as  naked  literal  interpretation. 
This  latter  is  often  the  most  artificial,  far-fetched,  and  distorted 
kind  of  interpretation  we  can  give.  Human  language  is  an 
imperfect  instrument ;  it  is  obliged  to  adopt  many  short  and 
summary  forms  of  speech  and  modes  of  statement,  leaving  the 
reader  to  supply  of  his  own  understanding  the  proper  and 
intended  qualifications.  I  say,  it  is  obliged  to  do  this,  because 
indeed  it  is  necessary  for  our  practical  convenience  that  it 
should.  It  must  limit  itself  in  expression.  Were  language 
really  to  express  the  whole  amount  of  unexpressed  conditions 
which  are  contained  ordinarily  in  it,  it  would  become  too 
cumbrous  an  instrument  for  use.  All  communication  between 
man  and  man  would  be  clogged.  It  would  take  half  an  hour 
to  make  a  remark.  To  ask  a  question,  we  should  have  to 
start  we  do  not  know  whence,  and  end  we  do  not  know  where. 
Nor  should  we  gain  in  perspicuity  what  we  lost  in  despatch. 
Language  would  then  be  unintelligible  from  its  very  fulness  and 
cram.  No  head  could  take  in  such  a  crowd  of  detail.  How 
difficult  of  comprehension,  for  instance,  is  a  legal  document,  not 
from  its  defect,  but  its  enormous  supply  of  expression,  resulting 
from  the  cautious  determination  to  state  everything  which  in 
ordinary  language  is  left  to  be  understood.  Human  language, 
therefore,  shortens  and  abridges  itself;  and  it  would  surprise  us 
if  we  were  to  examine,  and  see  how  much  we  leave  out  in 
ordinary  speech  and  writing,  which  the  hearer  or  reader  is 
intended  to  supply.  When  then  language,  by  its  normal  con- 
struction, constantly  leaves  these  unexpressed  qualifications  for 
us  to  supply,  if  we  insist  on  that  particular  kind  of  interpreta- 
tion which  does  not  supply  them,  we  do  not  fulfil  our  part  of 
the  arrangement.  The  bare  literal  interpretation  in  such  cases 
is  not  a  tribute,  but  a  positive  injustice,  to  the  statement  to 
which  it  is  applied,  misrepresenting  its  purpose,  and  distorting 


on  the  Articles.  223 

its  meaning.  The  literal  meaning  is  just  the  very  opposite  to 
that  which  it  especially  pretends  to  be — the  natural  meaning. 
It  is  an  ?mnatural  meaning.  It  is  artificial,  when  we  know — 
know  by  familiar  and  practical  experience — that  language  is  a 
system  of  understandings,  as  well  as  of  expressions,  to  insist,  in 
all  cases,  upon  the  bare  expression  or  the  naked  letter  as  its 
adequate  exponent.  Yet  we  see  on  all  sides  persons  rejecting 
the  warnings,  the  rules,  and  the  checks  of  common  sense,  to 
exult  in  this  unreasonable  law  of  interpretation. 

I  do  not  undertake  here  to  define  all  the  conditions  under 
which  the  principle  of  qualification  should  be  applied,  and  the 
guarantees  for  its  legitimate  operation :  I  only,  as  a  matter  of 
common  sense,  assert  the  existence  of  such  a  principle.  If  a 
man  accepts  the  Gospel  history  with  the  qualification  that  it  is 
only  mythical  or  symbolical  narrative,  that  appears  to  me  an 
illegitimate  qualification,  whether  applied  to  the  Gospels  or  to 
Lord  Clarendon's  History.  But  if  either  Lord  Clarendon  or  an 
inspired  writer  uses  some  particular  expression  which  seems 
obviously  intended  to  be  taken  with  a  qualification,  I  would  let 
either  have  the  benefit  of  it. 

I  might  illustrate  this  rule  of  appeal  to  Scripture  by  another 
case,  that  of  the  Bishop's  address  to  the  Priest  in  the  Ordina- 
tion Service — "  Whose  sins  thou  dost  forgive,  they  are  forgiven  ; 
and  whose  sins  thou  dost  retain,  they  are  retained."  The 
hesitation  to  accept  this  statement  arises,  I  apprehend,  from 
the  impossibility  that  a  mere  man  can,  under  any  circum- 
stances, possess  what  is  naturally  meant  by  the  power  to  forgive 
sins — a  power  which  is  an  attribute  of  the  Deity  alone.  But 
that  men — some  men,  who  were  mere  men, — did  forgive  sins,  is 
the  express  statement  of  Scripture.  "Whosesoever  sins  ye 
remit,  they  are  remitted  unto  them ;  and  whosesoever  sins  ye 
retain,  they  are  retained."  It  is  true  that  the  authority  which 
communicates  this  power  is  different  in  Scripture  and  in  the 
Prayer-book,  being  in  the  one  case  our  Lord,  in  the  other  the 
Church  ;  and  it  is  true  that  the  men  to  whom  it  is  communicated 
are  also  different,  being  in  the  one  case  Apostles,  in  the  other 
priests  :  but  the  difficulty  that  its  possessors  were  men  is  the 
same  in  both  cases.  When  we  come  then  to  the  attribution  of 


224          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

this  power  to  men  in  the  Prayer-book,  there  is,  on  this  head,  no 
fresh  difficulty  to  which  we  are  subjected,  but  only  one  which 
we  have  already  surmounted  in  accepting  the  same  attribution 
in  Scripture.  In  Scripture,  we  of  course  assented  to  it,  with 
the  reservation, — "Who  can  forgive  sins  but  God  only?" 
That  is  to  say,  we  took  it  in  some  sense  consistent  with  that 
truth ;  and  we  have  only  to  give  the  same  explanation  to  it  in 
the  Prayer-book. 

Having  explained  then  what  I  mean  by  this  rule  of  inter- 
pretation, I  will  proceed  soon  to  apply  it  to  the  Articles  in 
question.  But,  first  of  all,  I  must  speak  of  these  Articles 
themselves,  and  show  that  they  come  under  that  head  of 
foramlistic  language  to  which  this  rule  is  applicable,  namely, 
that  they  speak  the  language  of  Scripture. 

These  Articles,  then,  have  been  sometimes  represented  as 
simply  scholastic  and  controversial ;  the  productions  of  the 
laboratories  of  professional  divines :  distantly  connected,  indeed, 
with  some  real  and  essential  truth  at  the  fountain-head ;  but 
so  far  removed  from  it  by  the  successive  stages  of  human 
speculation  through  which  they  have  passed,  and  the  human 
media  which  have  coloured  and  modelled  them,  that  they  have 
practically  ceased  to  belong  to  the  sphere  of  revelation,  and 
become  a  simply  human  and  polemical  fabric.  Whatever 
element  of  divine  truth  there  may  be  in  them  has  been  so 
completely  metamorphosed  in  the  passage,  and  so  buried  in  the 
incrustations  of  foreign  matter  from  the  department  of  specu- 
lative thought,  that  it  has  virtually  lost  its  identity.  But 
though  this  is  the  theological  description  which  is  sometimes 
given  of  this  section  of  our  Articles,  I  must  frankly  confess 
that  they  appear  to  me  to  be,  every  one  of  them,  the  actual 
statements  of  St.  Paul.  For  identity  of  statement  literal 
tautology  is  not  necessary ;  it  is  enough  if  the  evident  sense 
and  meaning  are  the  same.  These  Articles  appear  to  me,  then, 
to  say  exactly  the  same  thing  that  he  does. 

I  will  take  the  three  which  contain  the  substance  of  the 
whole— Arts.  IX.,  XL,  and  XVII.  The  first  of  the  cardinal 
statements  of  the  IXth  Article  is,  that  "  man  is  very  far  gone 
from  original  righteousness,  and  is  of  his  own  nature  inclined  to 


on  the  Articles.  225_ 

evil."  Now  what  does  St.  Paul  say  ?  I  will  quote  one  passage, 
which  only  represents  more  vividly  the  general  purport  of  his 
language.  In  that  passage  the  Apostle  is  evidently  not 
speaking  of  any  particular  corrupt  state  of  society,  or  corrupt 
age,  or  vicious  circle  ;  he  is  speaking  obviously  of  man  alto- 
gether, of  man  as  such  in  his  natural  state,  and  impersonating 
such  universal  man,  and  therefore,  speaking  in  the  first  person, 
he  says — "  I  am  carnal,  sold  under  sin  ...  For  I  know 
that  in  me,  that  is,  in  my  flesh,  dwelleth  no  good  thing  .  .  . 
For  the  good  that  I  would  I  do  not,  but  the  evil  that  I  would 
not  that  I  do  ...  I  see  another  law  in  my  members  warring 
against  the  law  of  my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  capitivity  to 
the  law  of  sin.  0  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death  ?"  If  man  in  the  flesh,  or  natural 
state,  is  under  actual  captivity  to  sin  ;  if  he  is  sold  under  sin,  and 
if  no  good  thing  dwelleth  in  him,  so  that  he  never  does  the  good 
thing,  and  always  does  the  evil  thing ;  then  man — the  natural 
man — is  certainly  "  very  far  gone  from  original  righteousness." 
He  is  even,  if  we  are  to  press  the  term,  "  as  far  as  possible 
[quam  longissime]  gone  from  original  righteousness  :"  for  we 
cannot  imagine  a  condition  more  remote  from  righteousness 
than  this.  No  acts  proceeding  out  of  such  a  condition  as  this 
can,  of  course,  be  "  pleasant  to  God,"  as  a  subsequent  Article 
says. 

The  other  cardinal  statement  of  the  IXth  Article  is,  that 
this  sinfulness  of  the  natural  man  is  not  the  mere  fault  of  the 
individual,  but  the  "  fault  of  his  nature,  as  engendered  of  the 
offspring  of  Adam."  But  St.  Paul  says  exactly  the  same  thing. 
The  universal  sinfulness  of  the  natural  man  is  indeed,  ipso  facto, 
a  fault  of  nature ;  for  a  universal  result  must  proceed  from 
some  law,  and  cannot  be  simply  an  "extraordinary  coincidence  " 
— so  many  separate  individuals  happening  to  fall  into  the  same 
sinful  character.  But  he  also  states  this  truth  expressly, 
sending  us  to  Adam  as  the  origin  of  the  sin  of  all  mankind, — 
"  We  are  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath  .  .  .  The  old  man  is 
corrupt  ...  By  one  man  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and 
death  by  sin  ...  By  one  man's  offence  death  reigned  by 
one  .  .  .  Through  the  offence  of  one  many  be  dead  ...  By 

p 


226          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

the  offence  of  one  judgment  came  upon  all  men  to  condemna- 
tion ...  By  one  man's  disobedience  many  were  made  sinners  .  .  . 
For  since  by  man  [by  the  analogy,  an  individual]  came  death,  by 
man  came  also  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  For  as  in  Adam 
all  die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive." 

The  Xlth  Article  asserts  the  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith  only;  but  this  is  so  constantly  asserted*  totidem  verbis  by 
St.  Paul,  that  I  think  anybody  will  admit  that  the  language  of 
this  Article  is  the  language  of  St.  Paul. 

The  XVIIth  Article  has  been  a  great  bone  of  contention. 
Understood  grammatically,  this  Article  represents  both  the 
ultimate  salvation  and  also  the  preparatory  life  and  actions  of  all 
who  are  saved,  as  the  certain  results  of  an  eternal  decree  of 
Predestination.  "  They  which  be  endued  with  so  excellent  a 
benefit  of  God  are  called,  obey  the  calling,  are  justified,"  etc. 
This  statement,  then,  encounters  the  very  natural  objection 
that  it  is  opposed  to  the  self-determination,  or,  as  it  is  called, 
freedom  of  the  will,  and  to  the  Divine  justice  and  impartiality  : 
it  is,  nevertheless,  almost  word  for  word,  the  statement  of  St. 
Paul, — "  whom  He  did  foreknow,  He  also  did  predestinate  to  be 
conformed  to  the  image  of  His  Son  " — where  that  to  which  the 
elect  are  predestinated  is  evidently  not  merely  the  happy  end 
on  supposition  of  the  qualification  for  it,  but  to  the  means  or 
qualification  itself — being  conformed  to  the  image  of  Christ. 
And  so  he  continues, — "  Whom  He  did  predestinate  them  He 
also  called,  and  whom  He  called  them  He  also  justified :  and 
whom  He  justified  them  He  also  glorified." 

I  have  just  touched  upon  these  Articles  enough  to  show 
the  matter  they  contain ;  and  now  I  must  repeat,  that  they 
cannot  be  regarded  as  dry  formulae,  structures  of  logic,  and  the 
products  of  scholastic  brains.  They  shoot  up  straight  from  the 
very  fount  of  Pauline  teaching,  are  fresh  from  the  vital  source, 
and  are  living  and  working  doctrine,  connected  with  the 
spiritual  sense  of  Christians.  I  need  not  say,  in  writing  to 
one  who  has  gone  so  ably  into  the  temper  and  genius  of  St. 
Paul,  and  described  so  vividly  the  characteristics  of  that 
Apostle's  thought,  that  it  is  impossible  to  read  his  Epistles 
without  seeing  that  the  mind  of  this  inspired  writer  was  put 


on  the  Articles.  227 

in  possession  of  a  most  remarkable  body  of  doctrine  respecting 
the  nature  and  salvation  of  man — a  doctrine  substantially  the 
same  with  that  of  the  rest  of  Scripture,  but  certainly  assuming 
in  his  teaching  a  developed  form.  Human  nature  is  first  seen 
in  his  revelation  utterly  prostrate  and  helpless  ;  unable  to  do 
anything  but  sin;  but  still  "alive,"  in  this  miserable  sense, 
that  it  is  unconscious  of  its  own  degradation,  and  does  not  even 
wish  to  rise.  But  then  the  Law  comes  and  gives  the  finishing 
stroke  to  man, — slays  him,  transfixing  him  with  the  sharp  con- 
sciousness of  his  guilt,  and  then  leaving  him  to  himself.  This 
completes  the  work  of  death.  In  this  state  of  things,  then, 
the  mighty  Deliverer  appeared,  wiped  off  man's  guilt  by  the 
unspeakable  Sacrifice,  and  offered  to  recreate  him : — but  only  on 
one  condition,  namely,  that  the  change  should  be  acknowledged 
as  entirely  His  doing,  and  not  man's.  This  is  the  act  of  justify- 
ing faith,  which  disowns  works  ;  upon  which  act  of  self-rejec- 
tion the  soul  is  new-created,  and  is  endowed  with  a  Spirit  not 
its  own,  which  impels,  sustains,  and  elevates  it  with  irresistible 
might,  so  that  it  rises  above  earth  and  mounts  heavenwards. 
But  why  are  not  all  saved  thus  ?  It  is  the  "  purpose  of  God 
according  to  election  .  .  .  having  mercy  on  whom  He  will 
have  mercy."  St.  Paul  thus  begins  and  ends  alike  with  a  pro- 
found mystery :  he  begins  with  the  mystery  of  the  Fall,  and  he 
ends  with  the  mystery  of  Predestination.  And  in  this  sphere 
of  inspiration  he  shoots  from  depth  to  height,  descends  to  the 
lower  parts  of  the  earth,  and  ascends  far  above  all  things ;  sits 
in  the  dust  with  fallen  nature,  and  soars  beyond  the  clouds 
with  renewed  nature ;  not  in  regular  alternations,  but  with  the 
zigzag  of  lightning  in  a  storm,  giving  full  vent  to  that  quick 
and  lively  principle  of  openness  which  expresses  every  paren- 
thetical emotion  as  it  rises ;  and  makes  his  style  so  free  and 
flexible  an  instrument  of  his  mind,  almost  like  thinking  aloud. 
And  both  his  depth  and  his  height,  both  his  picture  of  vile  and 
helpless  man,  and  his  picture  of  man  upraised  and  carried  on 
by  a  divine  impulse,  have  a  response  in  the  human  heart. 
They  are  the  doctrines  of  human  nature  as  well  as  of  revelation. 
For,  in  truth,  the  sense  of  sin  in  man  is  infinite,  and  the  sense 
of  dependence  in  him  and  of  invisible  support  is  infinite  too. 


228          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

A  man  cannot  measure  his  sin  and  say  that  it  is  so  much  and 
no  more ;  and  a  man  cannot  limit  that  sense  of  being  elevated 
by  a  Power  outside  of  him  which  he  has  when  he  emerges  from 
sin;  that  feeling  of  dependence  which  is  helplessness  and 
strength  combined;  which  is  not  sadness,  but  exultation, 
because  everything  seems  to  be  done  for  him,  and  he  is  carried 
along  by  an  unfailing  impulse  from  without : — a  feeling  which 
even  great  men  of  the  world  have  often  had  in  their  own  sphere 
of  action,  and  which  has  invariably  been,  when  they  had  it, 
their  great  source  of  strength.  For  it  is  a  known  fact  of  human 
character,  that  a  man  is  never  so  vigorous,  so  decided,  so 
unchangeably  resolute  and  determined,  so  inaccessible  to  every 
attempt  to  divert  him,  and  so  elevated  above  every  obstacle 
and  barrier  in  his  way — if  it  happens  to  be  a  wrong  cause — 
so  deaf  to  all  reason,  and  so  irrevocably  and  incorrigibly  per- 
tinacious and  obstinate,  as  when  he  declares  that  he  himself 
does  nothing  and  wills  nothing,  but  is  only  following  and 
receiving  an  unseen  motion  from  without.  I  say,  then,  that 
the  sense  of  sin  in  man  and  the  sense  of  dependence  are  both 
infinite.  It  is  this  latter  principle  of  self-rejection  which 
constitutes  the  essence  of  that  act  of  faith  which  is  said  by 
St.  Paul  to  be  justifying.  It  is  a  matter  of  simple  feeling  and 
common  sense  that  mere  works  do  not  satisfy  us,  as  marks  of 
goodness.  Nature  herself  desiderates  a  certain  running  accom- 
paniment of  self-rejection,  emptying  every  good  work,  as  fast 
as  it  is  done,  of  its  merits  in  the  doer's  eyes  :  and  this  ulterior, 
more  remote,  and  deeper  principle  is  the  secret  of  that  type 
of  character  which  is  an  object  of  love.  Do  we  not  sometimes 
meet  persons  who  suggest  the  remark,  how  much  more  we 
should  justify  them,  or  account  them  righteous,  if  they  would  do 
fewer  good  works,  and  do  them  better ;  if  their  left  hand  did 
not  know  so  accurately  what  their  right  hand  did  ?  It  was  this 
deep,  ulterior  principle,  to  which  good  works  are  but  the  ante- 
chamber, which  Luther  pursued  with  eager  penetration,  grasped 
with  extravagant  force,  and  expressed  with  blind  and  headstrong 
audacity,  in  some  of  his  well-known  dicta  in  disparagement  of 
works.  Such  is  the  witness  of  nature  to  St.  Paul's  doctrine  of  justi- 
fication, which  embodies  a  great  truth  of  morals  as  well  as  of  faith. 


on  the  Articles.  229 

This  set  of  Articles,  then,  appears  to  me  to  give  a  plain, 
unpretending  summary  of  this  language  of  St.  Paul.  They 
adopt  the  range  of  St.  Paul,  beginning  with  the  mystery  of  the 
Fall,  and  ending  with  the  mystery  of  Predestination,  and  they 
follow  him  throughout.  Human  nature  is  prostrate  in  the 
IXth  Article ;  it  throws  itself  upon  a  Eedeemer  in  the  Xlth, 
and  performs  the  act  of  self-abandonment ;  it  is  raised  to  the 
heavenly  life  here  in  the  Xlllth ;  and  it  ascends  to  glory  in 
the  XVI Ith.  It  is  quite  true  that  we  miss  in  them  the 
peculiarly  poetical  effect  which  we  have  in  the  Epistles  of 
St.  Paul.  But  the  defect  is  one  of  form  rather  than  of  substance. 
The  Book  of  Job,  for  example,  is  a  book  which  contains  the 
most  striking,  beautiful,  and  majestic  truths  respecting  Provid- 
ence, human  destiny,  and  design  of  our  present  existence ;  but 
these  truths  owe  a  good  deal  of  the  impression  they  make  upon 
our  imagination  to  the  form  in  which  they  come  before  us — 
the  wildness,  the  abruptness,  the  quick  exclamation,  the 
impassioned  complaint,  the  angry  self- vindication ;  the  indigna- 
tion turning  suddenly  into  the  cry  of  the  suppliant,  obstinately 
unyielding,  but  conscious  of  utter  helplessness ;  knowing  that 
it  is  useless  to  contend  against  Infinite  Power ;  and  so  tenderly 
deprecating,  while  he  all  but  defies,  the  Hand  that  crushes 
him.  If  all  this  was  transformed  into  twelve  propositions  with 
headings,  the  effect  on  the  imagination  would  be  a  good  deal 
impaired.  And  yet  every  truth  that  is  contained  in  the  book 
might  be  stated  correctly  in  this  shape,  and  might  demand  our 
assent  as  the  evident  doctrine  of  the  Book  of  Job. 

Although,  therefore,  one  school  in  the  Church  is  charged 
with  too  exclusive  a  devotion  to  St.  Paul,  we  must  still  all 
acknowledge  his  teaching  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  Christianity. 
And,  therefore,  had  the  Articles  stopped  with  the  historical  or 
Gospel  account  of  our  Lord,  and  not  gone  on  to  St.  Paul's  doctrine, 
they  would  have  been  plainly  quite  defective  as  a  representa- 
tion of  Christianity ;  giving  a  part  and  not  the  whole.  This 
great  Apostle  has  indeed  moulded  and  worded  the  theology  of 
Christendom  in  its  internal,  or,  as  it  is  called,  subjective  region. 
We  meet  him  in  every  Confession  of  Faith,  Komanist  and 
Puritan,  and  all  agree  in  understanding  him  to  say  what  these 


230          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

Articles  understand  him  to  say.  They  extract  the  same  main 
doctrines  from  him.1  Indeed,  the  most  difficult  doctrine — that 
of  Predestination — has  been  interpreted  as  Calvinistically  by 
the  greatest  Koman  doctors  as  by  Calvin  himself. 

These  Articles,  then,  being  solid  portions  of  Scripture,  I 
will  now  apply  that  rule  of  interpretation  to  them  to  which  I 
have  called  attention, — viz.,  that  in  whatever  sense,  and  with 
whatever  explanation,  we  accept  these  statements  in  Scripture, 
we  may  understand  them  in  that  sense,  and  apply  that  explana- 
tion to  them,  when  we  meet  them  in  the  Articles.  We  cannot 
suppose  that  this  language  has  one  meaning  in  the  Articles 
and  another  in  Scripture.  It  is  quite  true,  that  if  we  interpret 
Scripture  wrong,  then,  by  the  application  of  this  rule,  we  shall 
interpret  the  Articles  wrong  :  but  this  is  no  fault  of  the  rule 
itself,  but  of  the  particular  interpretation  of  which  it  is  made 
the  channel :  no  fault  of  the  rule  of  transferring  the  sense  of 
Scripture  to  the  Articles,  but  only  of  the  particular  supposed 
sense  which  is  transferred. 

Let  us  take  the  IXth  Article.  Here  is  the  statement  that 
man,  in  his  natural  state,  is  very  far  gone — quam  longissime — 
from  original  righteousness.  Was  Socrates,  then,  was  Plato, 
was  Phocion,  was  Titus,  was  Trajan,  was  Marcus  Antoninus, 

1  "Si  quis  non  confitetur  primum  hominem  Adam,  quum  mandatum  Dei 
in  paradise  fuisset  transgressus  .  .  .  mortem  incurrisse,  et  cum  morte  captiv- 
itatem  sub  ejus  potestate  qui  mortis  deinde  habuit  imperium,  hoc  est  diaboli  .  .  . 
anathema  sit. 

"Si  quis  inquinatum  ilium  mortem  tantum  in  omne  genus  humanum 
transtulisse,  non  autem  et  peccatum  quod  mors  est  animse  ;  anathema  sit." — 
Council  of  Trent,  Sess.  v. 

"  Gratis  autem  justificari  ideo  dicamur,  quia  nihil  eorum  quse  justifica- 
tionem  praecedunt,  sive  fides  sive  opera,  ipsam  justificationis  gratiam  prom- 
eretur.  Si  enim  gratia  est  jam  non  ex  operibus,  alioquin,  ut  Apostolus 
inquit,  gratia  jam  non  est  gratia." — Council  of  Trent,  Sess.  vi.  c.  8.  In 
Chapter  v.  the  Council  denies  that  any  works  done  before  the  bestowal  of 
grace  merit  that  grace.  ' '  Declarat  justificationis  exordium  in  adultis  a  prae- 
veniente  gratia  sumendum,  hoc  est,  ab  ejus  vocatioiie,  qua  nullis  eorum 
existentibus  meritis,  vocantur."  The  modification  of  merit  de  congruo, 
entertained  by  one  party  in  the  Roman  Church,  was  denounced  by  another. 
"  Sunt  alii  non  content!  gratia  gratis  data,  sed  volunt  quod  vendatur  a  Deo, 
et  ematur  ab  eis  aliquo  pretio  licet  vili,  congruo  tamen  ut  asserunt,  non 
condigno.  Dicunt  enim  homines  ex  solis  propriis  viribus  gratiam  Dei  mereri 
de  congruo,  non  autem  de  condigno.  Et  quia  iste  error  est  famosior  cseteris 
his  diebus,  etc." — Bradwardine,  lib.  i.  c.  39. 

Bradwardine,  called  the  Profound  Doctor,  was  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
in  the  reign  of  Edward  III. 


on  the  Articles.  23 1 

as  far  as  possible  gone  from  original  righteousness  ?  Were 
they  each  and  all  of  them  as  wicked  as  they  could  possibly  be  ? 
I  answer  this  question  by  asking  another.  Were  they  sold 
under  sin,  were  they  under  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin,  and  did 
no  good  thing  dwell  in  them  ?  These  statements  of  St.  Paul 
apply  to  all  mankind  in  their  natural  state ;  and  therefore  they 
include,  in  their  literal  scope,  Socrates,  Phocion,  Marcus 
Antoninus,  and  every  virtuous  heathen  that  ever  lived.  But 
when  we  accepted  these  statements  of  St.  Paul,  we  accepted 
them  with  the  interpretation  that  they  were  not  intended  by 
the  inspired  writer  to  conflict  with  the  plain  fact  of  experience, 
that  men,  even  in  a  state  of  nature,  have  a  certain  power  of 
doing  right  actions  and  avoiding  wrong  ones ;  that  some  are 
better  than  others  ;  and  that  some  have  been  very  good  men — 
a  fact  which  St.  Paul  himself  recognises  elsewhere,  in  the 
allusion  "  to  the  Gentiles,  which  do  by  nature  the  things  con- 
tained in  the  law."  We  have  only  to  apply,  then,  the  same 
explanation  to  the  same  statements  in  the  Articles.  It  is  a 
right,  and  a  duty  as  well,  to  do  so  ;  otherwise  we  make  the 
language  of  Scripture  mean  differently  in  Scripture  and  out 
of  Scripture ;  that  is,  when,  simply  for  convenience'  sake,  it  is 
extracted  from  the  page  of  the  Bible  and  put  in  a  separate 
passage  before  us.  We  cannot  do  this.  The  language  of 
Scripture  is,  in  truth,  always  in  Scripture  :  if  it  be  separated 
from  it  to  the  eye,  it  is  incorporated  with  it  to  the  mind.  It 
must  always  have  that  meaning  which  we  give  to  it  when  we 
read  the  Bible  and  come  across  it  there.  We  give  St.  Paul's 
language,  when  we  meet  it  in  his  Epistles,  the  benefit  of  what 
is,  in  the  particular  case,  a  natural  interpretation :  natural, 
'because,  not  rigidly  literal.  We  may  give  the  same  to  theArticle. 
We  come  to  another  statement  in  the  same  Article,  that  this 
sinfulness  of  the  natural  man  is  the  fault  of  his  nature,  that 
is,  to  the  doctrine  of  Original  Sin,  or  of  the  Fall  of  the  whole 
human  race  in  Adam.  How  is  this  consistent  with  the  Divine 
justice  ?  I  answer  this  question  also  by  asking  another.  How 
is  the  same  language  in  St.  Paul  consistent  with  Divine  justice? 
When  we  accepted  that  whole  body  of  language  in  St.  Paul, 
which  plainly  asserts  the  spiritual  death  of  the  whole  human 


232  Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

race  in  Adam,  we  accepted  it  either  in  a  sense  which  reconciled 
it  to  our  own  understanding  with  the  Divine  justice,  or  in  a 
mysterious  and  incomprehensible  sense.  We  can  apply  the 
same  senses  to  it  when  we  meet  it  in  the  Article. 

We  come  to  the  Xlth  Article.  Here  is  the  great  theme  of 
so  many  controversies, — the  assertion  of  Justification  by  Faith 
only.  How  is  this  to  be  explained  in  consistency  with  the 
express  declaration  of  St.  James,  that  a  man  is  justified  by 
works  ?  I  answer  this  question,  too,  by  asking  another.  How 
is  St.  Paul  to  be  explained  in  consistency  with  St.  James  ? 
When  we  came  across  the  doctrine  of  Justification  by  Faith 
only  in  St.  Paul,  we  explained  it — as  we  were  bound  to  do — 
in  some  way  which  made  it  consistent  with  St  James's  literal 
assertion  of  the  contrary ;  "  for  we  may  not  so  expound  one 
place  of  Scripture  as  to  be  repugnant  to  another."  We  have 
only  then  to  apply  the  same  interpretation  to  that  doctrine  when 
we  meet  it  in  the  Article.  As  encountered  in  St.  Paul,  it  is 
ipso  facto  consistent  with  St.  James,  by  reason  of  the  unity  of 
Scripture :  and  what  it  means  in  St.  Paul  it  means  in  the  Article. 

We  come  to  the  XHIth  Article.  Here  is  the  statement 
that  "  works  done  before  the  grace  of  Christ  and  the  inspiration 
of  His  Spirit  are  not  pleasant  to  God,  but  rather  have  the 
nature  of  sin."  Was  no  act,  then,  of  a  heathen,  however 
generous  and  heroic,  ever  pleasant  to  God  ?  I  answer  this 
question,  also,  by  asking  another — the  same  I  asked  before, 
— Was  every  heathen  sold  under  sin,  in  captivity  to  the  law 
of  sin  ?  If  so,  then  every  act  of  his  must  have  corresponded 
to  that  condition.  The  literal  sense  of  St.  Paul  is  evidently 
opposed  to  the  performance  of  any  good  action  by  man  in  a 
state  of  nature.  But  we  have  taken  the  language  of  St.  Paul 
with  a  qualification :  and  we  can  take  the  language  of  the 
Article  with  the  same. 

We  come  to  the  XVIIth  Article,  and  the  known  crux  it 
offers.  Is  everlasting  happiness,  then,  the  result  of  an  eternal 
and  sovereign  decree  on  the  part  of  God,  predestinating  certain 
persons  to  it,  and  to  the  qualifications  for  it, — the  call,  the 
obeying  the  call,  justification,  conformation  to  Christ's  image, 
and  good  works  ?  I  can  reply,  what  is  simply  the  truth,  that 


on  the  Articles.  233 

St.  Paul  says  exactly  the  same  thing.  His  language  and  the 
Article's  language  are  the  same.  We  have  only,  then,  to  give 
the  same  meaning  to  it  in  the  Article  that  we  have  given  to  it 
in  St.  Paul.  One  who  thinks  with  Bishop  Tomline,  that  by 
those  who  are  "  predestinated  to  be  conformed  to  Christ's  image," 
to  be  called,  justified,  and  glorified,  St.  Paul  only  means  "  that 
part  of  mankind  to  whom  God  hath  decreed  to  make  known 
the  Gospel,"  will,  of  course,  give  that  meaning  to  the  same 
language  in  the  Article.  One  who  adopts  the  interpretation 
noticed  by  Bishop  Burnet,  that  when  St.  Paul  describes 
holiness  of  life  or  conformity  to  Christ  as  the  effect  of  pre- 
destination, he  means  that  it  is  the  cause  of  it,  will  explain  the 
assertion  of  the  Article  in  the  same  way.  One  who  adopts  the 
Calvinistic  interpretation  of  St.  Paul  will  give  the  Calvinistic 
interpretation  to  the  Article.  One  who  adopts  the  last-named 
interpretation  of  St.  Paul,  with  the  reserve  that  it  only  expresses 
one  side  of  a  great  mysterious  truth,  will  adopt  the  same 
interpretation  of  the  Article  with  the  same  reserve. 

I  will  venture  to  hope  that  my  argument  up  to  this  point 
contains  a  good  deal  which  will  more  or  less  meet  with  your 
concurrence.  And  I  will  hazard  the  prophecy  that  you  will 
not  stop  me  if  I  go  a  step  further,  and  say  that  these  Articles, 
interpreted  in  this  way,  do  not  impose  any  great  difficulty  upon 
the  subscriber.  The  difficulty,  whatever  it  may  be,  has  been 
forestalled ;  it  has  been  met  and  dealt  with  in  a  prior  stage 
of  this  business,  so  that  when  we  come  to  the  Article  the 
encounter  is  past  and  over.  There  is  no  fresh  stumbling-block, 
but  only  one  which  we  have  already  surmounted ;  nor  have 
we  to  originate  an  explanation,  but  only  to  repeat  one.  The 
whole  brunt  of  the  struggle  has  been  borne  by  Scripture,  and 
under  the  shelter  of  that  intervening  barrier  the  Articles 
reclined  in  peace,  and  only  awaited  the  issue  of  the  combat 
outside  of  them  which  was  to  decide  their  explanation.  That 
is  the  peculiarity  of  the  position,  if  we  may  call  it  so — the 
military  position  of  these  structures.  Their  battle  is  fought 
upon  the  ground  of  Scripture.  They  are  saved  the  exposure  to 
the  open  sea  of  interpretation,  the  waves  of  which  dash  upon 
the  rock  of  inspiration  before  they  reach  them,  and  having 


234          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

spent  their  force  leave  a  comparative  haven  for  hard- worked 
and  exhausted  exegesis. 

And  this  peculiarity  in  the  position  of  the  Articles  should 
perhaps  be  remembered  when  surprise  is  expressed  at  the  fact 
that  so  large  a  number  of  propositions  should  be  accepted  by 
so  large  a  number  of  men.  This  fact  in  itself,  and  indepen- 
dently of  its  antecedents,  would  indeed  be  astonishing,  and 
might  well  excite  an  ironical  curiosity.  But  this  fact  has  one 
very  remarkable  antecedent,  which  goes  some  way  in  explain- 
ing it,  and  makes  it  more  natural  and  less  extraordinary  than 
it  otherwise  would  be  ;  and  that  is,  that  a  particular  book  or 
collection  of  writings,  namely,  the  Bible,  has  been  accepted  by 
all  Christians  as  an  inspired  book,  and  though  we  differ  among 
ourselves  as  to  the  points  to  which  inspiration  extends,  all 
would  acknowledge  doctrine  as  coming  under  the  guarantee  of 
it.  When  a  set  of  articles,  then,  is  constructed,  so  far  as  their 
statements  are  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  so  far  they  are 
ipso  facto  statements  universally  accepted.  The  agreement  as 
to  accepting  them  pre-exists  in  the  universal  acceptance  of 
Scripture.  We  start  with  a  common  reservoir  and  depository 
of  language,  which  at  once  secures  a  common  reception  for  all 
the  language  taken  from  it.  The  meaning  will  be  disputed 
because  the  meaning  of  the  Bible  is  disputed,  but  the  state- 
ments are  of  common  acceptance  because  the  statements  in  the 
Bible  are. 

This  peculiarity,  too,  in  the  position  of  the  Articles,  should 
perhaps  be  remembered  when  notice  is  taken  of  the  great 
diversity  of  senses  in  which  the  Articles  are  subscribed. 
"  What  discord — what  variation,"  it  is  said,  "  what  a  mockery 
of  agreement  is  here ! — people  accepting  the  same  statements, 
but  every  one  understanding  them  in  his  own  sense."  But 
does  not  all  this  go  on  long  prior  to  the  Articles  in  the  treat- 
ment of  Scripture  ?  Would  not  all  this  go  on  if  the  Articles 
were  swept  out  of  existence  to-morrow,  and  expunged  from  the 
Church's  tablet  ?  There  would  be  still  the  statements  of 
Scripture  accepted  by  all,  but  in  different  senses  by  different 
schools.  There  would  be  still  that  formal  profession  of  agree- 
ment so  far  in  advance  of  the  reality,  which  some  might  call  a 


on  the  Articles.  235 

mockery  and  pretence,  and  which,  indeed,  would  be  this,  as 
much  as,  and  no  more  than,  our  agreement  in  the  Articles. 

Should  not  this  peculiarity,  too,  in  the  position  of  the 
Articles  be  remembered,  when  the  complicated  nature  of  the 
structure  is  noticed  ?  It  is  true  it  is  a  complicated  fabric,  but 
is  not  Scripture  as  much  so — indeed  more  so — by  how  much  it 
is,  in  terms,  more  comprehensive  than  the  Articles  ?  Upon  the 
subject,  for  example,  of  Justification,  the  letter  of  the  Articles 
is  less  complicated  than  the  letter  of  the  Bible  ;  the  latter  con- 
sisting of  two  apparently  opposite  assertions,  the  former  con- 
sisting of  only  one  assertion.  But  does  the  attribute  of 
simplicity  really  belong  to  the  scheme  of  human  salvation,  as 
described  in  the  page  of  Scripture  ? — a  scheme  which,  starting 
with  a  mysterious  depravation  of  our  nature,  as  mysteriously 
remedies  it,  and  brings  things  to  their  issue  by  a  circuitous  pro- 
cess of  rectification,  instead  of  by  a  straight  and  direct  course  ? 
I  take  the  actual  language  of  the  Bible,  as  it  meets  my  eye,  and 
I  say,  it  is  not  simple  language.  It  is  complicated  language. 
It  is  language  which  expresses  a  complication  of  some  kind  or 
other  in  the  invisible  world  of  man's  relations  to  God  and 
God's  relations  to  man  ;  something  out  of  order  in  nature  which 
requires  to  be  met  by  supernatural  means.  And  St.  Paul  dis- 
closes a  human  interior  corresponding  to  this  intricacy  of 
Divine  truth,  and  illuminates  with  his  torch  a  cavern  awful  in 
its  depths  and  recesses,  when  he  reveals  man  to  himself.  And 
are  there  not  oppositions  which  can  only  be  harmonised  by 
interpretation  in  that  Volume,  which  expresses  doctrinal  truth 
by  statement  and  counter- statement,  but  not  always  by 
simplicity  and  unity  of  statement  ?* 

It  appears  to  me,  then,  that  whatever  became  of  the  Articles, 
the  self-same  difficulties,  and  the  self-same  way  of  meeting 
them,  would  go  on  amongst  us ;  that  we  should  still  accept  a 
complicated  mass  of  statement,  and  that  we  should  accept  that 

1  The  Bishop  of  Oxford  (Bp.  Wilberforce),  speaking  of  our  Formularies, 
says  :  "Such  a  state  of  things  is  rather  a  combination  than  a  compromise. 
And  this  is  the  special  character  of  Catholic  Truth.  For  all  revealed  religion 
rests  upon  certain  great  principles  ;  which  the  human  mind  can  hold  together 
in  what  it  knows  to  be  a  true  concord,  whilst  yet  it  cannot  always  by  its  intel- 
lectual processes  limit,  define,  and  reconcile  what  its  higher  gift  of  intuition 
can  harmonise." — Charge,  1860. 


236          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

mass  of  statement  in  a  variety  of  senses  according  to  the  par- 
ticular school  to  which  we  belong.  The  Articles  are,  many  of 
them,  but  a  reflection  of  Scripture,  and  their  interpretation  but 
the  reflection  of  the  interpretation  of  Scripture.  Were  the 
representative  document  to  go,  the  original  document  itself 
would  still  remain  to  be  the  subject-matter  of  conflicting  ex- 
planations, to  be  language  accepted  by  all  alike  and  understood 
by  different  sections  differently,  and  to  be  the  basis  of  doctrinal 
variety  under  the  form  of  one  and  the  same  subscription. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  difference  between  the  language  of  these 
Articles  and  that  of  Scripture,  to  which  I  have  alluded.  I 
observe  that  you  characterise  the  set  of  Articles  which  has 
formed  the  subject  of  these  remarks  as  "  polemical."  I  should 
not  myself  apply  that  term  to  them,  but  I  should  admit  that 
they  gave  a  special  prominence  to  one  side  of  Scripture  language. 
I  should  admit,  for  example,  what  is  a  simple  fact,  that  the 
Xlth  Article  reflects  the  language  of  St.  Paul  on  Justification, 
and  does  not  reflect  that  of  St.  James ;  and  that  the  XVlIth 
Article  represents  the  Predestinarian  side  of  Scripture,  and 
not  the  free-will  side  of  Scripture.  But  Articles,  which  are 
"  polemical "  only  in  this  sense,  that  they  give  prominence  to 
certain  statements  of  Scripture  and  keep  others  in  the  back- 
ground, offer  no  difficulty  to  a  subscriber  on  that  account. 
Because  the  only  question  which  he  has  to  consider  is  not 
whether  other  statements  are  not  in  Scripture,  but  whether  these 
statements  are.  If  they  are  there  he  has  accepted  them  in 
their  place  in  Scripture,  and  he  has  only  to  accept  them  in 
the  same  sense  in  the  Articles.  He  has  accepted,  for  instance, 
St.  Paul's  assertion  of  Justification  by  faith  only.  W7herever, 
then,  and  whenever,  he  meets  that  assertion  afterwards,  he  can 
accept  it.  It  makes  no  difference  to  him  that  St.  James's  state- 
ment is  absent,  if  the  statement  which  is  present  is  St.  Paul's. 

I  gather,  however,  from  some  observations  I  have  met  with, 
that  what  is  called  the  "  act "  of  subscribing,  as  distinguished 
from  a  general  obligation  to  hold  a  certain  collection  of  doctrine, 
is  very  distasteful  to  some.  I  can  allow  this  feeling  to  be  con- 
sistent with  perfect  honesty  of  subscription.  We  are  accus- 
tomed to  the  private  act  of  understanding  language  with  a 


on  the  Articles.  237 

certain  liberty,  and  qualifying  the  letter ;  and  we  could  not  get 
on  without  a  moderate  licence  of  this  kind  in  our  reading  or 
intercourse.  I  need  not  repeat  the  remarks  I  made  some  pages 
back  on  this  point.  But  when  we  are — to  use  a  colloquial 
expression — "  pulled  up "  by  a  form — a  solemn  act  in  the 
presence  of  others,  we  would  certainly  rather  have  language 
which  did  not  require  qualification  to  subscribe  to.  We  are, 
for  example,  all  agreed  upon  the  qualification  we  give  to  the 
Scripture  precept,  "  Swear  not  at  all ; "  but  had  any  of  us  to 
declare  solemnly  in  an  assembly  of  Quakers  that  he  believed  it 
to  be  wrong  to  "  swear  at  all,"  he  would  do  it  with  the  unpleas- 
ant consciousness  that  everybody  present  regarded  him  as 
taking  an  unwarrantable  liberty  in  making  that  declaration  in 
the  sense  in  which  he  did.  Could  we  call  up  from  their  sleep 
the  scholastic  doctors  of  a  thousand  years,  there  would  be  the 
same  feeling  in  declaring  before  that  venerable  assembly  our 
belief  in  the  truth  that  "he  that  believeth  not  shall  be 
damned,"  because  we  do  not  take  this  text  literally,  and  they 
did.  And  so  in  the  case  of  the  Articles — a  public  act  of  sub- 
scription, even  if  made  only  in  the  presence  of  a  few  officials, 
conjures  up  in  imagination  a  dissentient  row,  who  would  look 
upon  the  sense  in  which  we  accepted  one  or  other  Article  as 
an  evasion.  But  if  we  are  conscious  of  our  own  integrity,  this 
feeling,  though  not  unnatural,  is  easily  met. 

The  formal  "  act "  of  subscription,  again,  in  the  presence  of 
officials,  conjures  up  the  idea  of  lawyers'  documents  and 
lawyers'  forms,  to  which  class  of  compositions  qualification 
does  not  apply,  because  it  is  their  very  purpose  to  express  all 
that  in  ordinary  language  is  left  to  be  understood.  But  this  is 
not  the  language  in  which  the  Articles  of  which  I  am  speaking 
are  drawn  up.  They  are  drawn  up  substantially  in  the  language 
of  Scripture ;  and  the  language  of  Scripture  is  not  "  lawyers' 
language,"  but  the  natural  language  of  mankind,  which  some- 
times leaves  room  for  qualification.  They  represent  the  full 
and  literal  sense  of  St.  Paul ;  but  St.  Paul  writes  in  natural 
language,  not  in  "  lawyers'  language." 

Although,  therefore,  the  "  act "  of  subscribing  may  involve — 
in  an  atmosphere  of  difference  of  opinion, — a  sense  of  collision 


238          Letter  to  the  Rev.  Professor  Stanley 

with  others  which  is  not  agreeable,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
this  collision  has  really  gone  on  before  in  the  interpretation  of 
Scripture,  and  that  our  subscription  has  virtually  been  made 
prior  to  the  formal  act,  in  our  own  rooms,  over  our  books,  in 
our  own  thoughts. 

It  does  not  appear  to  me,  then,  that  in  the  compartment 
which  I  have  been  reviewing,  subscription  presses  hard.  I 
have  selected  one  set  of  Articles,  those  relating  to  the  process 
of  man's  salvation,  because  here  are  statements  which  come 
into  apparent  collision,  not  only  with  the  tenets  of  particular 
schools,  but  the  natural  feelings  of  mankind.  And  it  appears 
to  me  that  these  Articles  copy  St.  Paul's  doctrine  so  faithfully, 
that  we  have  accepted  them  in  accepting  St.  Paul,  and  have 
only  got  to  understand  them  in  the  same  sense  in  which  we 
understand  him. — "  But  if  you  claim  the  acceptance  of  these 
Articles  on  the  ground  that  they  are  the  language  of  the  Bible, 
why  not  be  satisfied  with  the  acceptance  of  the  Bible  ?"  That 
is  a  proper  question  in  its  place,  but  I  have  only  to  deal  here 
with  an  alleged  difficulty  or  grievance ;  and  I  say  that  there  is 
no  grievance  in  subscribing  to  these  statements  if  these  state- 
ments are  in  Scripture.  "  But  you  are  virtually  maintaining 
the  German  '  quatenus,'  that  the  subscriber's  assent  to  the 
Articles  is  only  assent  to  them  so  far  as  they  are  in  Scripture." 
No ;  the  rule  which  I  have  been  applying  is  the  rule,  that  if 
the  language  of  an  Article  and  Scripture  is  the  same,  the  sense 
is  the  same.  The  "  quatenus,"  on  the  other  hand,  gives  the 
individual  the  liberty  to  decide  for  himself  that  the  language  of 
the  two  disagrees,  and  to  take  the  one  and  reject  the  other. 

The  conclusion  which  I  arrive  at,  then,  is  that,  over  the 
ground  on  which  I  have  been  travelling,  relief  from  subscription 
is  not  wanted.  We  may,  I  think,  be  quite  sure  that  a  very 
large  amount  of  forbearance  will  always  be  secured  for  the 
results  of  individual  speculation  by  the  natural  operation  of 
reasonable  feelings  in  the  members  of  the  Church,  without 
instituting  any  organic  change.  Our  system  is  one  which 
raises  the  greatest  possible  difficulties  in  the  way  of  prosecu- 
tion of  individuals — not  only  formal  difficulties,  but  difficulties 
of  feeling.  Ours  is  a  system  which  encourages  inquiry  and 


on  the  Articles.  239 

sets  minds  to  work.  When,  then,  we  have  sanctioned  an 
active  principle  of  examination  at  the  outset,  and  when  we 
have  lived  side  by  side  with  the  gradual  growth  of  individual 
thought,  in  the  same  institution,  under  the  same  roof,  the 
sanction  of  the  process  must,  to  a  certain  extent,  affect  us  even 
in  dealing  with  its  results,  when  they  are  erroneous,  and  must 
operate  as  a  great  practical  check  upon  the  temper  in  which  we 
condemn  them.  A  limit  of  course  there  must  be  to  freedom 
of  opinion  within  a  communion  which  professes  a  definite 
creed.  I  cordially  agree  with  the  remarks  of  the  Bishop  of 
London,1  made  with  much  vigour  and  naturalness,  upon  this 
combination  of  duties  which  devolves  upon  us.  But  philoso- 
phical feelings,  social  feelings,  and  equitable  views,  will  always 
be  a  strong  self-acting  barrier  against  the  impatient  treatment 
of  the  errors  of  intellectual  men,  without  recourse  to  a  formal 
alteration  of  our  ecclesiastical  basis. 

I  am, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

J.  B.  MOZLEY. 

1  Bishop  Tait. 


240 


.—  TJIE  COLONIAL  CHURCH  QUESTION. 

THE  crisis  through  which  the  Colonial  Church  is  now 
passing  is  the  result  of  a  collision  between  two  great  principles, 
one  in  the  faith,  the  other  in  the  working  constitution  of  our 
Church ;  one  a  religious  principle,  the  other  a  legal  one ;  one 
the  doctrine  of  the  Inspiration  of  Scripture,  the  other  "  the 
legal  principle  of  construction,"  as  applied  to  our  Formularies. 
Were  a  person  asked  offhand  what  the  motive  working  in  the 
present  critical  movement  of  the  Colonial  Church  was,  he 
would  reply,  perhaps,  that  it  was  a  wish  to  free  itself  from  the 
Royal  Prerogative.  But  this  would  not  be  a  proper  description 
of  it.  The  Colonial  Churches  do  not  object  to  the  Royal  Pre- 
rogative as  such ;  rather  they  would  gladly  accept  it  as  a 
centre  around  which  to  gather,  uniting  them  with  each  other, 
and  with  the  Church  at  home,  in  one  ecclesiastical  system. 
What  is  objected  to  is  a  particular  legal  mode  of  working  the 
Royal  Prerogative ;  a  particular  judicial  principle  with  which 
it  is  now  identified.  Nor  is  it  this  principle  itself,  that  is,  not 
its  ordinary  action,  which  is  objected  to,  but  its  working  in  one 
particular  case,  and  upon  one  particular  question,  with  which  it 
is  in  its  very  nature  unfitted  to  deal. 

When  we  speak  of  the  "  legal  principle  of  construction,"  in 
its  primary  sense,  we  mean  a  very  natural  and  equitable  prin- 
ciple, namely,  that  when  the  Church  makes  a  statement,  that 
statement  should  be  interpreted  according  to  its  literal  meaning. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  justice  of  this  principle  as 
applied  to  all  truth  which  can  be  put  into  documentary  shape, 
that  is,  can  be  formally  stated.  "  The  legal  principle  of  con- 
struction" is  in  these  cases  only  another  name  for  the  principle 
of  correct  and  natural  interpretation  of  language.  But  when  we 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  241 

speak  of  "  the  legal  principle  of  construction  "  in  a  secondary 
sense,  we  mean  by  it  another  thing — we  mean  the  confinement 
and  restriction  of  the  Church  to  this  naked  documentary 
criterion.  The  use  of  the  documentary  criterion  is  one  thing, 
the  confinement  of  the  Church  to  it  is  another  thing.  "  Our 
ecclesiastical  judges,"  says  the  Bishop  of  London,1  "  without 
absolutely  committing  themselves  to  it  in  the  abstract,  have 
practically  acted  on  the  principle  that  they  must  be  guided 
entirely  by  the  written  law  of  the  Church,  known  and  under- 
stood and  acquiesced  in  by  all  who  are  subject  to  their 
authority." 2  In  other  words,  a  man  is  only  bound  not  to 
contradict  the  written  statements  of  the  Church;  if  any 
assertion  does  not  contradict  these,  he  may  make  it.  But  in 
this  secondary  sense,  or  as  a  confining  principle,  "the  legal 
principle  of  construction"  is  defective  as  an  instrument  of 
defence  to  the  Church.  For  though  it  deals  well  enough 
with  truth  which  can  be  put  into  documentary  shape  or  be 
formally  stated,  what  if  there  is  truth  which  cannot  be  put 
into  documentary  shape,  or  cannot  be  formally  stated,  but  yet 
for  the  security  of  which  the  Church  ought  to  provide  ?  This 
becomes  then  an  insufficient  instrument,  and  there  is  some- 
thing which  has  to  be  guarded,  but  which  is  not  guarded  by 
this  defence.  But  such  a  truth  is  the  doctrine  of  the  inspiration 
of  Scripture. 

When  I  say  that  the  doctrine  of  the  inspiration  of  Scripture 
is  not  capable  of  being  formally  stated,  I  mean  this  : — Did  the 
Church  impose  upon  her  members  the  position  that  the  infal- 
libility of  Scripture  covers  every  single  statement  in  it  without 
exception,  for  example,  the  minutest  genealogical  and  chrono- 
logical statement,  every  physical  and  astronomical  statement  ? 
Such  a  doctrine  of  the  infallibility  of  Scripture  could  be  stated, 
because  it  was  thus  universal  in  application,  and  covered  every 
particular.  But  without  going  into  a  great  and  profound  contro- 
versy, it  is  enough,  in  the  present  instance,  to  say  that  the  Church 
does  not  impose  this  interpretation  of  the  infallibility  of  Scrip- 
ture as  necessary,  and  therefore  the  doctrine  of  the  Inspiration 
of  Scripture,  which  has  to  be  laid  down  or  assumed  in  an  Article 
1  Bishop  Tait.  2  Charge,  p.  45,  delivered  1867. 

Q 


242  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

of  the  Church,  is  a  modified  and  qualified  doctrine,  or  admitting 
of  a  modified  and  qualified  interpretation.  Such  a  doctrine  is 
laid  down  or  assumed  in  our  Articles,  in  which  the  Bible  is 
said  to  be  "  the  Word  of  God."  The  statement  that  Scripture 
is  "  the  Word  of  God  "  certainly  attaches  a  general  infallibility 
to  Scripture ;  but  it  does  not  in  the  meaning  of  the  Church 
oblige  the  extension  of  the  cover  of  infallibility  to  every  single 
physical,  astronomical,  genealogical,  chronological  statement  of 
Scripture.  Again,  the  Church  requires  "belief  in  all  the 
Canonical  Scriptures  ; "  but  the  belief  of  the  person  carries  the 
same  latitude  as  the  infallibility  of  the  book. 

But  because  the  Church  thus  leaves  a  margin — if  I  may  be 
allowed  to  use  such  a  term  upon  such  a  subject— in  her  doctrine 
of  the  infallibility  of  Scripture,  does  she  acquiesce  in  the 
rejection  of  the  historical  and  other  general  truth  of  Scripture 
to  any  extent  and  amount  whatever  ?  in  a  general  liberty  to 
attribute  error  to  Scripture  judgments  on  persons  and  things  ? 
in  the  treatment,  in  short,  of  Scripture  as  an  ordinary  book 
generally,  only  reserving  the  authority  of  certain  specific 
statements  in  it  ?  This  is  a  question  of  fact,  and  the  answer  to 
it  depends  on  what  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  nature  of  the 
belief  which  has  been  held,  and  is  held  now,  in  the  Christian 
body  respecting  the  inspiration  of  Scripture.  What  is  the 
character  of  this  belief?  Is  it  such  a  belief  as  does  not  feel 
itself  at  all  contradicted  or  challenged  by  a  wholesale  rejection 
of  the  truth  of  Scripture,  but  feels  itself  fitting  in  and  uniting 
with  such  a  rejection  ?  taking  it  easily,  and  as  a  matter  of 
course,  as  something  which  came  within  its  own  scope,  and  for 
which  it  already  allowed  ?  or,  on  the  contrary,  is  it  such  a 
belief  as,  upon  the  supposition  of  Scripture  being  largely  false 
or  fabulous,  feels  an  immediate  shock,  and  revolts  from  the 
idea? 

This  being  a  question,  then,  relating  to  a  matter  of  fact,  there 
can  be  no  reasonable  hesitation  how  it  must  be  decided.  I  can 
no  more  doubt  as  to  the  general  character  of  the  belief  which 
has  been  in  possession  of  the  Christian  body  from  the  first,  and 
is  in  possession  of  it  now,  on  the  subject  of  the  Inspiration  of 
Scripture,  than  I  can  doubt  about  the  plainest  facts  of  history 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  243^ 

or  society.  The  Christian  Church  has  been  always  penetrated 
with  an  idea  of  the  Inspiration  of  Scripture  which  utterly 
refuses  to  amalgamate  with  this  critical  conception  of  Scripture, 
and  which  demands  another  attitude  towards  the  Bible.  This 
book  stood  alone  in  the  world,  as  bearing  the  Divine  stamp,  and 
being  an  authoritative  account  of  the  dealings  of  God  with  man 
in  the  great  matter  of  human  salvation.  This  was  its  great 
communication;  but  inasmuch  as  this  extended  through  a 
succession  of  revelations,  and  involved  the  career  of  a  whole 
people,  and  the  varied  contributions  from  national  history  and 
personal  history  to  the  one  leading  purpose  of  God ;  and  inas- 
much as  all  that  contributed  to  the  execution  of  the  great  plan 
came  under  the  cover  of  it,  and  partook  of  its  spiritual 
providential  character,  the  seal  of  inspiration  did  not  attach 
to  one  or  other  part,  or  to  one  or  other  ingredient  in  the  book 
only,  but  it  attached  to  the  book  as  a  whole.  Thus  the  belief 
of  the  Church  fits  in  with  one  measure  of  latitude  on  the  sub- 
ject of  inspiration,  it  does  not  fit  in  with  another.  Differences 
of  degree  are  not  always  mere  differences  of  quantity.  One 
measure  of  personal  liberty  is  consistent  with  civil  government, 
another  is  not;  one  degree  constitutes  temperance,  another 
intemperance.  Distinctions  of  degree,  then,  may  be  distinc- 
tions of  principle.  The  Church  has  treated  the  difference 
between  one  measure  of  latitude  on  the  subject  of  inspiration 
and  another  as  a  distinction  of  principle ;  and  has  regarded 
one  latitude  as  inconsistent  (and  indeed  in  the  actual  history 
of  men's  minds  it  appears  to  be  so)  with  the  belief  even  of  a 
true  revelation  in  Scripture. 

But  though  the  distinction  between  one  latitude  and 
another  in  the  treatment  of  Scripture  is  a  real  one,  and  a 
real  practical  part  of  the  belief  of  the  Church,  it  is  a  distinction 
which  is  utterly  incapable  of  being  stated  in  an  Article.  If  a 
margin  011  this  subject  is  allowed  at  all  in  the  belief  of  the 
Church,  that  margin  cannot  be  defined.  The  merest  slip  of 
logical  territory,  and  the  breadth  which  covers  the  whole 
domain  but  the  merest  slip,  come  exactly  under  the  same  formal 
statement  or  absence  of  statement.  The  infringement  of  the 
merest  edge  of  the  field  of  inspiration  and  the  irruption  into 


244  The  Colonial  CJmrch  Question. 

its  very  centre  come  under  the  same  definition  or  absence  of 
definition.  If  the  most  insignificant  genealogical  fact,  or 
chronological  fact,  or  physical  fact,  is  allowed  to  escape  out  of 
the  shield  of  infallibility,  the  same  opening  which  lets  out 
these  facts  lets  out  logically  a  thousand  more.  A  chronolo- 
gical fact,  a  genealogical  fact,  and  even  a  physical  fact,  it  will 
be  said,  is  an  historical  fact ;  if  one  kind  of  historical  fact  may 
be  wrong,  another  may  be ;  if  one  fact  may  be  wrong,  a  whole 
history  may  be. 

It  is  impossible,  therefore,  to  draw  a  line  in  an  Article 
between  a  margin  and  any  invasion  the  most  extensive  of  the 
historical  infallibility  of  Scripture.  From  which  it  follows 
that,  our  Articles  leaving  a  margin,  no  such  invasion  contradicts 
the  Articles ;  and  that,  "  the  legal  principle  of  construction  " 
admitting  anything  which  does  not  contradict  the  Articles,  no 
such  invasion  is  prohibited  by  the  "  legal  principle  of  construc- 
tion." This  legal  principle  must  interpret  an  opening,  as 
literally  as  it  interprets  a  statement ;  it  binds  itself  not  to 
meddle  with  anything ;  as  the  opening  is,  so  must  it  admit ; 
anything  is  to  go  through  it  which  can  go  through  it. 

The  prohibition,  indeed,  of  one  measure  of  latitude,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  another,  being  wanted,  people  have  gone  to 
the  Articles  for  it.  "  It  must  be  in  the  Articles ;  is  it  in  the 
first,  is  it  in  the  second,  is  it  in  the  third  ?"  The  truth  is,  it  is 
not  in  any  Article,  it  cannot  be  in  any  Article  ;  the  very  nature 
of  the  subject  excludes  it  from  the  defining  grasp  of  an  Article. 
How  can  a  distinction  of  measure,  of  degree,  of  application, 
admit  of  formal  definition  ?  If  there  is  a  difficulty  inherent  in 
the  subject  of  Inspiration  which  throws  the  doctrine  upon  the 
common  sense  and  the  fundamental  belief  of  Christians  for  its 
treatment,  such  a  circumstance  would  have  a  parallel  in  many 
parts  of  the  Divine  dispensations ;  but  it  would  plainly  take 
the  doctrine  out  of  the  sphere  of  formal  propositions.  It  is 
sometimes  said  that  the  questions  connected  with  the  doctrine 
of  Inspiration  were  not  mooted  in  the  days  when  our  Articles 
were  written ;  and  the  omission  of  any  statement  in  them  to 
meet  the  excesses  in  the  historical  criticism  of  the  Sacred 
Volume  has  been  accounted  for  on  that  ground.  But  the  cause 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  245 

of  the  omission  in  the  Articles  lies  far  deeper ;  it  springs  from 
the  very  root,  and  out  of  the  intrinsic  complexity  of  the  subject. 
Were  a  whole  Synod  of  divines,  with  the  full  knowledge  of  the 
latest  inroads  upon  the  historical  region  of  Scripture,  to  deliberate 
together  to  frame  a  formula  to  express  the  doctrine  of  the  infalli- 
bility of  Scripture,  the  formula  they  would  devise,  if  it  did 
not  trench  upon  the  designed  latitude  of  our  Articles,  would 
express  just  as  much  as,  and  no  more  than,  the  phrase  in  the 
Article  expresses,  namely,  that  the  Bible  is  the  "  Word  of  God." 
It  would  be  chargeable  with  just  the  same  defect  as  a  guarantee 
which  accompanies  the  existing  formula.  It  is  no  fault  of  our 
Articles  that  they  do  not  state  what  is  incapable  of  being 
stated ;  but  that  does  not  alter  the  matter-of-fact  result,  namely, 
that  the  Articles  in  their  legal  construction  do  not  prohibit  the 
extent  of  criticism  now  spoken  of. 

We  have  got  then  as  far  as  this — that  the  Church  has  a 
decided  belief  on  the  subject  of  the  Inspiration  of  Scripture ; 
but  that,  as  that  belief  is  incapable  of  being  defined  and  stated 
in  an  Article,  the  Article  in  its  legal  construction  does  not 
guard  that  belief.  But,  arguing  upon  principles  of  equity, 
does  the  Church  lose  her  right  over  truth  because  she  cannot 
formally  state  it  ?  That  is  the  next  question  which  comes. 
Does  it  debar  her  in  justice  from  requiring  from  her  ministers 
a  certain  mode  of  treating  the  inspiration  of  Scripture,  that  she 
cannot  formally  define  that  mode  ?  I  cannot  see,  myself,  the 
necessary  connection  between  these  two.  When  the  Christian 
Church  started  upon  her  career  she  found  herself  in  custody  of 
different  kinds  of  sacred  deposits.  She  was,  in  the  first  place, 
the  guardian  of  various  doctrines  which  were  capable  of  being 
formally  stated.  These  doctrines  then  were  stated  in  Creeds, 
Confessions,  Articles,  Formularies ;  and  the  doctrines  having 
been  stated,  those  statements  are  the  proper  subject  of  legal 
construction.  No  unexpressed  intention  on  the  part  of  the 
Church  has  the  right  to  insinuate  itself  here  ;  she  has  no  right 
to  play  fast  and  loose  with  the  principle  of  Creeds  and  Articles ; 
to  put  forth  explicit  doctrine  and  supplement  it  where  she 
pleases  by  implicit ;  when  she  has  made  her  statements  she 
must  take  her  stand  upon  them,  or,  if  they  are  defective,  alter 


246  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

them  ;  and  the  grammatical,  the  literal,  the  legal  interpretation 
of  these  statements  is  the  just  one.  But  there  was  another 
sacred  deposit  which  could  not  be  treated  in  this  way.  This 
was  not  a  doctrine  or  collection  of  doctrines,  but  a  Book  or 
collection  of  books.  The  attitude  of  the  Church  toward  this 
Book  was  what  was  above  described.  An  infallibility  attached 
to  the  Book  as  a  whole,  but  that  infallibility  at  the  same  time 
was  not,  as  a  matter  of  necessary  belief,  strained  to  include 
particular  minutiae,  where  the  enforcement  of  it  would  indeed, 
in  the  opinion vof  some,  have  detracted  from,  rather  than  added 
to,  its  dignity  and  grandeur.  Simply  then,  and  in  a  word,  the 
doctrine  of  the  Inspiration  of  Scripture  could  not  be  stated. 
But  there  was  a  doctrine  of  it,  a  strong,  a  vigorous,  a  deep 
doctrine  of  it  in  the  mind  of  the  Church.  A  certain  attitude 
was  taken  toward  the  Bible,  and  that  attitude  was  as  well 
understood  as  anything  in  religion.  A  certain  mode  of  treating 
Scripture  would  at  once  have  been  denounced  as  in  utter 
discord  with  the  character  of  the  Book.  Because  then  the 
Church  has  only  stated  and  documentary  rights  over  truth 
which  she  can  state  and  put  into  a  documentary  shape,  has  she 
no  rights  which  are  not  stated,  and  are  not  documentary,  over 
other  truth  which  is  incapable  of  such  expression  ?  Because 
the  general  mode  of  treatment  due  to  the  inspiration  of  Scrip- 
ture cannot  be  defined,  does  she  possess  no  jurisdiction  what- 
ever with  respect  to  the  general  treatment  of  the  Inspiration 
of  Scripture  ? 

I  do  not  see,  as  I  have  just  said,  what  is  the  connection 
between  those  two ;  or  that  the  right  to  guard  certain  truth, 
and  require  the  practical  recognition  of  it,  depends  upon  the 
circumstance  of  such  truth's  capability  of  being  formally  stated. 
This  circumstance  with  regard  to  the  right  to  guard  does  not 
appear  relevant.  If  there  is  a  belief  respecting  Scripture  which 
is  deep  in  the  Church's  mind,  which  is  a  thorough  part  and  an 
inseparable  part  of  her  belief  in  Eevelation,  which  touches  the 
foundation  of  her  whole  faith,  which  it  is  all-important  and 
positively  necessary  to  guard  for  the  security  of  the  faith  of  her 
members, — to  say  that  this  belief  cannot  be  defended  because 
it  cannot  be  put  into  a  formal  proposition  does  seem  a  kind  of 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  247 

pedantry.  You  have  the  right  to  the  thing  ;  the  thing  exists 
all  the  same,  whether  or  not  it  can  be  logically  defined.  True, 
if  you  can  formally  state  a  truth,  you  are  bound  upon  the 
principle  of  Creeds  and  Articles  to  do  so,  and  in  lack  of  such 
statement  you  must  take  the  consequences,  because  the 
omission  is  your  own  fault.  But  here  it  is  no  fault  of  yours 
that  you  do  not  state  the  truth,  you  are  not  able,  the  truth  is 
of  such  a  nature  ;  you  are  not  responsible  for  the  nature  of  the 
truth.  The  only  form,  therefore,  in  which  the  right  can  exist, 
being  that  of  a  right  over  an  unstated  and  undefined  truth,  the 
right  is  justified  in  existing  in  that  form.  The  impossibility 
of  defining  the  truth  constitutes  it  legitimate  to  guard  it 
undefined. 

You  have  a  right,  I  say,  to  the  thing.  You  have  a  right  to 
many  things  which  you  cannot  define  in  terms ;  you  have  a 
right  to  be  fairly  treated,  to  be  civilly  treated.  What  con- 
stitutes honesty,  candour,  liberality,  openness,  in  any  particular 
case,  cannot  be  defined.  A  Christian  congregation,  then,  with 
respect  to  a  certain  general  treatment  of  Scripture,  says,  I  have 
a  right  to  the  thing t  whether  I  can  formally  define  it  or  not  is 
nothing  to  the  purpose.  Nor  is  it  anything  to  the  purpose,  in 
considering  the  question  of  right,  whether  this  idea  of  the 
community  is  logical  or  illogical ;  we  have  nothing  to  do  with 
criticising  this  idea.  It  is  enough  that  this  is  the  idea  of  the 
community. 

It  must  be  remembered  tha,t  we  assume  in  this  discussion  the 
place  which  the  Bible  holds  in  a  Christian  community,  as  being 
such  a  Book  as  that  the  treatment  of  it  like  an  ordinary  book, 
which  carries  with  it  a  general  exposure  to  criticism,  is  irreligious 
in  the  eyes  of  the  community.  This  place,  this  rank,  this 
character  of  the  Book  in  the  eyes  of  the  community  is  assumed. 
Do  you  mean  to  say  then,  that,  this  being  the  case,  a  Christian 
community  has  not  a  right  to  maintain  as  a  community  its  own 
fundamental  idea  of  that  Book  by  requiring  that  that  Book 
shall  be  treated  in  a  certain  general  way,  answering  to  this 
fundamental  idea  of  it  existing  in  the  community?  To  say 
this  would  be  to  interfere  with  obvious  rights  ;  for  what  is  the 
object  of  persons  meeting  together  in  a  religious  community, 


248  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

unless  they  can  secure  a  common  general  ground  in  the  treat- 
ment of  certain  subjects  ?  When  they  do  meet  then,  the 
community  has  a  right  to  make  its  own  terms  with  its  own 
ministers  and  officers,  to  which  the  latter  need  not  agree  unless 
they  please,  but  by  which,  if  they  do  agree  to  them,  they  are 
bound.  This  right  applies,  then,  as  to  other  things,  so  to  the 
general  treatment  of  Scripture.  But  if  this  general  treatment 
cannot  be  formally  stated  ?  The  community  still  does  not  lose 
the  right,  it  exists  all  the  same.  The  fundamental  idea  which 
the  community  entertains  of  "  the  Word  of  God  "  attaches  and 
adheres  to  the  phrase  "  Word  of  G-od  "  as  the  sense  and  import 
of  that  phrase.  The  sense  does  not  the  less  go  along  with  the 
words  because  it  cannot  be  formally  stated.  And  this  being 
the  case,  the  community  has  the  right  to  defend,  along  with  the 
phrase,  the  sense  which  attaches  to  it,  and  to  see  that  that  sense 
is  not  violated  in  the  public  expressions  and  ministrations  of 
its  own  ministers. 

The  principle  of  enforcing  claims  and  rights,  which  are  of 
such  a  nature  that  they  cannot  be  formally  stated,  is  well  known 
to  law  :  take,  for  example,  the  law  of  libel.  No  statute  does  or 
can  define  what  a  man  may  say,  and  what  a  man  may  not  say 
about  his  neighbour.  He  may  certainly  say  a  great  many 
things  which  his  neighbour  will  not  like,  and  which  yet  will 
not  bring  him  under  an  action  of  libel.  This  standard  then  of 
illegality  in  speech  and  writing  affecting  our  neighbour,  which 
is  undefined  by  statute,  exists  as  a  sense  and  understanding  in 
our  courts,  and  is  enforced  by  the  discretion  of  the  jury  and 
judge.  The  Articles  of  War  do  not  define  what  is  conduct 
unbefitting  an  officer ;  the  criterion  exists  in  an  unexpressed 
shape,  and  is  enforced  in  the  particular  case  by  the  discretion 
of  a  court. 

The  standard  idea  of  the  Bible  as  an  inspired  book  thus 
exists  as  a  fundamental  idea  or  sense  attaching  to  the  phrase, 
in  the  Christian  body ;  and  this  sense  is  defended  by  a  discre- 
tionary jurisdiction  in  the  body,  which  must  decide  in  a 
particular  case  whether  it  has  been  violated  or  not.  I  do  not 
speak  of  the  function  of  a  hierarchy  here,  but  of  a  public  right 
of  a  community.  The  right  of  requiring  a  certain  mode  of 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  249 

treating  Scripture,  although  that  mode  cannot  be  defined,  is 
indeed  in  practical  force  in  every  dissenting  community  in  this 
country.  Every  Methodist  congregation,  every  Baptist  con- 
gregation, every  Independent  congregation  exercises  it.  None 
of  these  religious  communities  have  in  their  written  formularies 
or  articles — even  if  they  possess  formularies  or  articles — any 
definition  of  the  mode  of  treatment  due  to  Scripture ;  their 
ministers  therefore  subscribe  to  no  such  statement :  yet  it  never 
occurs  to  any  member  of  these  bodies  to  question  the  right  of 
the  community  to  claim  a  certain  treatment  of  Scripture  from 
its  ministers.  This  is  assumed  as  a  primary  law  of  the 
community,  which  must  be  known  to  all  who  undertake  the 
ministerial  office  in  it. 

The  same  right  then  exists  radically  in  our  own  Church, 
and,  what  is  more,  it  exists  in  the  bosom  of  the  Eoyal 
ecclesiastical  supremacy  as  described  in  our  Statutes. 

For  indeed,  so  far  from  the  Eoyal  supremacy  being  in  itself 
chargeable  with  the  legal  principle  of  the  reduction  of  every 
thing  to  a  documentary  criterion,  a  strong  general  interposing 
power  was  the  marked  characteristic  and  a  chief  function  of 
the  Prerogative  for  a  long  time  in  practice,  and  it  is  even  now 
so  by  the  letter  of  our  Statutes.  By  1  Eliz.  c.  1,  it  is  enacted 
that  "such  jurisdictions,  privileges,  superiorities,  and  pre- 
eminences, spiritual  and  ecclesiastical,  as  by  any  spiritual  or 
ecclesiastical  power  or  authority  have  heretofore  leen,  or  may 
lawfully  be,  exercised  or  used  for  the  visitation  of  the  eccle- 
siastical state  and  persons,  and  for  reformation,  order,  and 
correction  of  the  same,  and  of  all  manner  of  errors,  heresies, 
schisms,  abuses,  offences,  contempts,  enormities,  shall  for  ever 
be  united  and  annexed  unto  the  imperial  Crown  of  this  realm" 
"  There  is  required,"  says  Hooker,  "  an  universal  power  which 
reacheth  over  all,  importing  supreme  authority  of  government 
over  all  courts,  all  judges,  all  causes ;  the  operation  of 
which  power  is  as  well  to  strengthen,  maintain,  and  uphold 
particular  jurisdictions,  which  haply  might  else  be  of  small 
effect,  as  also  to  remedy  that  which  they  are  not  able  to  help  .  .  . 
when  in  any  part  of  the  Church  errors  .  .  .  are  grown  which  men 
in  their  several  jurisdictions  either  do  not  or  cannot  help  ;  ivhat- 


250  Tne  Colonial  Chiirch  Question. 

soever  any  spiritual  authority  or  power  (such  as  legates  from  the 
See  of  Rome  did  sometimes  exercise)  ham  done  or  might  heretofore 
have  done  for  the  remedy  of  those  evils  ...  as  much  in  any 
degree  our  laws  have  fully  granted  that  the  King  for  ever  may 
do!' 1  This  is  the  state  of  the  case  then.  There  has  always 
resided  in  the  Universal  Church  a  jurisdiction  of  a  general 
kind,  to  supplement  her  formal  statements  and  written  rules, 
and  to  act  in  cases  which  were  incapable  of  being  brought  under 
definite  terms.  This  general  jurisdiction  is  referred  to  in  the 
statute  just  quoted  as  "  having  been  exercised  heretofore "  in 
the  Church  of  England  by  certain  "  spiritual  or  ecclesiastical 
powers  "  which  it  does  not  describe,  but  which  were  powers 
resting  ultimately  upon  the  Papacy;  and  it  is  asserted  that 
this  general  jurisdiction  has  now  passed  into  the  hands  of  the 
Crown.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  this  general  jurisdic- 
tion which  was  exercised  in  our  Church  before  the  Eeformation, 
and  to  which  the  Crown  succeeded  at  the  Eeformation,  was 
included  the  requirement  of  a  certain  mode  of  treating  the 
inspiration  of  the  sacred  volume ;  and  that  under  that  juris- 
diction the  violation  of  that  treatment  would  have  been  dis- 
allowed. » 

It  is  important,  I  say,  in  order  to  have  a  true  idea  of  the 
basis  and  constitution  of  our  Church — its  Reformation  basis 
and  constitution — to  remember  that  the  Articles  and  Formul- 
aries did  not  stand  alone  ;  that  there  ran  parallel  with  them, 
by  statute  and  by  canons,  a  recognised  and  an  active  general 
interposing  and  discretionary  power,  as  a  branch  of  the  Royal 
supremacy,  to  act  in  material  which  could  not  be  provided  for 
in  Articles.  A  power  which  had  always  resided  in  the  Church, 
which  resides  in  every  Christian  community,  by  the  compact 
of  that  day  took  a  particular  form,  and  was  transferred  to  the 
Crown  as  its  admin istrator.  The  secular  hands  in  which  it 
was  lodged  have  disguised  it  as  a  Church  jurisdiction,  and  the 
arbitrary  way  in  which  it  was  often  exercised  have  not  recom- 
mended it.  It  was,  nevertheless,  in  however  secular  a  form,  in 
substance  a  general  Church  jurisdiction,  over  and  above  the 

1  Vol.  iii.  p.  543. 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  251 

tie  of  Formularies.  And  it  does  now  by  statute  exist,  though 
it  is  not  in  force. 

For  it  was  indeed  inevitable  that  this  general  interposing 
power  of  the  Crown  must  go.  The  use  of  such  a  power  was 
wholly  unfitted  to  the  executive  of  a  popular  constitution  and 
a  parliamentary  majority ;  and  the  rights  of  property,  which 
attached  to  the  tenure  of  benefices,  acted  as  another  obstruction 
to  the  use  of  it.  This  most  important  branch  of  the  Crown's 
ecclesiastical  supremacy,  which  had  been  so  active  a  branch 
too,  and  played  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  our  Church  history  for 
more  than  a  century  after  the  Eeformation,  thus  fell  into 
absolute  desuetude.  The  letter  of  our  statutes  is  the  only  trace 
we  have  now  of  its  existence ;  and  with  the  practical  abrogation 
of  a  general  jurisdiction,  the  Courts  could  only  fall  back  upon 
the  written  documents  of  the  Church,  and  their  literal  or  legal 
construction. 

Such  is  the  history  of  this  legal  principle,  viewed  in  its 
technical  confining  sense.  It  is  an  artificial  restriction  of  the 
Church's  area  of  judgment ;  the  sediment  and  residuum  of 
jurisdiction  which  the  political  circumstances  of  the  country 
have  left  in  the  hands  of  the  Church  Courts ;  the  ultimate 
position  which  the  supremacy  has  been  compelled  to  take  up 
when  driven  from  its  wider  range ;  the  gradual  formation  of 
legal  tradition  and  caution,  when  successions  of  lawyers  were 
obliged  step  by  step  to  reduce  an  authority  which  they 
were  bound  to  wield  with  a  general  regard  to  the  modified 
constitution  of  the  country.  It  was  thus  inevitable  that  a 
collision  must  one  day  take  place  between  the  faith  of  the 
Church,  on  one  great  subject,  and  the  Church's  legal  machinery. 
What  the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the  Crown  would  grow 
into  under  our  popular  constitution  was  inevitable  ;  by  no  fault 
of  courts,  or  judges,  or  of  any  body,  but  by  the  inexorable 
action  of  events,  it  has  become  the  "legal  principle  of  con- 
struction," simply  because  its  supplement  in  the  Crown's 
general  ecclesiastical  interposing  power  could  not  be  retained. 
On  the  other  hand,  nothing  could  have  prevented  the  great  in- 
spiration question  from  breaking  out  some  day.  The  legal 
loophole  was  thus  inevitable ;  the  question  that  should  slip 


252  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

through  it  was  inevitable.  Certain  principles  working  blindly 
have  produced  this  issue  in  fact ;  constitutional  liberty,  when 
it  attacked  the  Prerogative,  hit  something  which  it  did  not  aim 
at,  but  which  happened  to  be  in  the  Prerogative,  this  general 
Church  jurisdiction. 

And  thus  the  secret  has  come  out,  the  disclosure  of  which 
was  only  a  matter  of  time,  that  the  subject  of  the  general  treat- 
ment of  the  inspiration  of  Scripture  is  not  provided  for  within 
the  legal  machinery  of  our  Church.  There  are  all  kinds  of 
influences  in  the  Church,  the  popular  faith,  the  weight  of 
persons  in  authority,  the  zeal  of  the  clergy,  to  compensate  for 
the  omission,  but  the  system  does  omit  the  point.  The  system 
allows  a  margin,  and  there  stops  short :  it  does  not  interfere 
with  the  degree,  the  extent,  the  quantity  of  that  margin ;  it 
allows  a  principle  of  latitude,  but  says  nothing  about  its  appli- 
cation. But  upon  this  subject,  degree,  extent,  quantity,  ap- 
plication, are  everything ;  and  to  abdicate  authority  on  these 
points  is  to  surrender  the  treatment  of  the  inspiration  of 
Scripture  as  a  subject  of  Church  jurisdiction.  And  this,  as  I 
have  just  said,  not  from  any  wish  or  intention  on  the  part  of 
Ohurch  or  State,  but  only  because,  by  the  inevitable  force  of 
events,  the  discretionary  jurisdiction  of  the  Church  is  gone,  the 
formulary  alone  is  left.  Whereas  a  discretionary  power  can 
alone  in  the  nature  of  the  case  deal  with  this  subject ;  a  for- 
mulary is  wholly  unequal  to  it. 

The  effect  of  the  "  legal  principle  of  construction  "  is,  there- 
fore, an  abeyance  of  a  branch  of  Church  jurisdiction,  of  a 
Christian  community's  jurisdiction.  I  cannot  deny  that  this 
is  a  serious  result,  although  it  is  relieved  and  counterbalanced 
practically.  This  legal  principle  acts  with  the  rigidity  of  a 
single  angle  of  fortification,  which  cuts  off  one  approach,  and 
leaves  every  other  open.  There  is  nothing  so  mathematically 
strict  and  impartial  as  the  action  of  a  negative  principle,  whose 
prohibitive  side  being  confined  to  special  points,  allows  a  uni- 
versality on  the  admitting  side,  except  upon  those  points ; 
which  throws  open  by  the  very  mode  in  which  it  excludes,  and 
liberates  by  the  very  conditions  by  which  it  ties.  One  point  of 
view  monopolises  the  ground, — decides  legality.  Does  so  and 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  253 

so  contradict  the  Formularies  ?  Certain  special,  historical,  and 
other  statements  of  Scripture  are  in  the  Articles  ;  the  legal 
principle  protects  tlum ;  that  is  the  prohibitive  side  of  the 
principle.  But  with  the  general  body  of  Scripture,  consist- 
ing of  history,  prophecy,  teaching,  comment  upon  men  and 
upon  events,  it  has  for  all  this  one  general  test — belief  in 
the  Canonical  Scriptures,  leaving  the  whole  ground  of  the 
application  of  this  test  to  particulars  and  to  details  open. 

Now  I  will,  in  justice  to  some  who,  as  learned  specu- 
lators, apply  an  expunging  criticism  to  Scripture,  say  that 
as  parish  clergymen  they  would  shrink  from  using  such  a 
criticism  as  a  basis  of  popular  teaching ;  and  that  their  good 
taste  and  common  sense  would  put  a  veto  upon  any  inculcation 
and  exposition  of  it  in  parish  discourses.  Still  I  cannot  conceal 
from  myself  that  we  should  be  indebted  for  that  salvo  to  the 
good  feeling  of  individuals,  and  not  to  the  "  legal  principle  of 
construction."  That  must  act  with  an  absolute  and  geometrical 
impartiality,  let  the  material  of  criticism,  or  -its  taste  and 
refinement,  or  its  sphere  vary  ever  so  much.  A  university  and 
a  parish  are  the  same  to  it.  It  could  not  recognise  or  take 
cognisance  of  any  such  distinction.  The  law  could  not  pro- 
hibit a  clergyman  from  asserting,  as  the  vicar  of  a  parish,  what 
he  had  a  right  to  assert  as  a  theological  writer.  A  court  could 
not  suspend  a  clergyman  for  telling  his  parishioners  what  he  had 
a  full  right  to  tell  the  public.  When  it  came  to  the  question 
of  the  conditions  upon  which  an  incumbent  held  his  benefice,  a 
sermon  must  be  judged  exactly  by  the  same  criterion  as  a  book, 
and  the  only  question  that  could  be  asked  about  it  would  be — 
Is  there  anything  in  it  which  contradicts  the  Formularies  ? 

I  have  before  me  now  two  published  parish  sermons,  which 
will  do  for  an  illustration.  They  are  entitled  "Apostolical 
Judgments  reversed."  In  the  first  the  preacher  comments 
severely  upon  the  statement  in  the  Second  Epistle  of  St.  Peter, 
that  "  Balaam  loved  the  wages  of  unrighteousness,  and  was  re- 
buked for  his  iniquity  " — an  assertion  which  he  terms  "a  libel." 
This  "  seems  to  me,"  he  says,  "  quite  a  libel  upon  the  honesty 
of  the  man,  and  his  straightforward  honourable  conduct."  He 
passes  the  same  judgment  upon  the  writer  of  the  Book  of 


254  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

Numbers,  whom  lie  considers,  besides  having  misrepresented 
the  character,  and  misinterpreted  the  acts  of  Balaam,  to  have 
made  a  positively  false  statement  as  regards  the  commands  of 
God  to  him  ;  first,  not  to  "  go,"  and  then  to  "  go  with  the  men." 
"  It  is  here,"  says  the  preacher,  "  that  we  must  begin  our 
quarrel  with  the  writer.  Whatever  may  have  passed  between 
the  soul  of  Balaam  and  his  God,  we  cannot  possibly  believe 
what  the  writer  here  says."  He  "points  out  two  marks,  by  which 
we  may  clearly  perceive  how  little  God  had  really  to  do  with 
transactions  in  which  the  mistaken  writer  has  so  constantly 
mixed  up  His  Holy  Name."  And  he  considers  that,  though 
the  narrative  contains  a  valuable  warning,  the  warning  which 
it  conveys  is  to  avoid  the  sin  of 'the  narrator,  not  the  sin  of  the 
subject  of  the  narrative,  who  is  highly  commended.  "  It  [this 
narrative]  is  of  great  value  as  a  record  of  early  error  on  the 
subject  of  God's  dealings  with  men ;  and  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  another  narrative  in  the  Bible  so  full  of  warn- 
ing against  the  sin  of  taking  God's  Holy  Name  in  vain."  The 
next  sermon  is  on  the  characters  of  Esau  and  Jacob — a  subject 
on  which  he  wholly  disagrees  with  St.  Paul,  as  upon  the 
character  of  Balaam  he  differed  from  St.  Peter.  "  A  good  deal 
has  been  said  about  Esau  selling  his  birthright ;  he  has  been 
described  as  'profane'  for  doing  this,  and  it  has  been  com- 
mented on  as  a  grievous  sin.  Now,  whatever  may  have  been 
the  value  of  that  birthright  (and  we  have  no  means  of  dis- 
covering now),  Esau's  answer  is  a  good  excuse  for  his  selling 
it.  He  says,  '  Behold,  I  am  at  the  point  to  die,  and  what  profit 
.shall  this  birthright  do  me?'  .  .  .  Esau  was  right  in  his 
answer — what  good  could  his  birthright  do  him  when  he  was 
dying  of  hunger  ?  There  is  one  sense,  of  course,  in  which  we 
ought  all  to  face  danger,  loss,  and  even  death  for  God's  sake, 
for  the  sake  of  our  duty.  But  from  this  story  we  cannot 
possibly  discover  any  particular  value  in  the  birthright  which 
should  have  made  Esau  care  to  keep  it." 

Now  this  is  a  specimen  of  parish  teaching  which  is,  I  should 
think,  quite  unique  in  our  Church.  I  merely  quote  it  for  the 
illustration  of  a  principle.  Most  people  would  say  that  it 
ought  not  to  be  dependent  on  the  option  of  the  individual 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  255 

clergyman — though  it  would  be  very  rarely  abused — whether 
such  a  treatment  of  Scripture  was  adopted  or  not,  but  that 
some  jurisdiction  in  the  Church  ought  to  prohibit  it.  But  the 
statements  I  have  quoted  are  not,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  pro- 
hibited by  the  "legal  principle  of  construction,"  the  rigid 
nature  of  which  restricts  it  to  one  single  point  of  view.  The 
preacher  indeed  "quarrels"  with  the  writer  of  the  Book  of 
Numbers,  and  with  two  apostles ;  but  upon  what  subject  does 
he  "  quarrel"  with  them  ?  Upon  any  statement  of  the  sacred 
writer  adopted  into  the  Articles?  No,  upon  no  doctrine  what- 
ever, but  only  upon  a  question  of  fact,  relating  to  the  character 
of  two  persons.  That  apostles  may  not  err,  and  express  that 
error  in  the  canonical  Epistles,  when  the  error  only  relates  to 
a  fact  of  biography,  is  nowhere  stated  or  implied  in  any 
Article  or  Formulary  in  its  legal  sense. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  describing  the  working  of 
the  "  legal  principle  of  construction"  in  the  Inspiration  ques- 
tion, because  the  desire  to  be  relieved  from  this  principle 
upon  this  question  is  at  bottom  the  motive  in  the  present 
critical  movement  in  the  Colonial  Church. 

When  we  come  to  inquire  what  the  question  is  which  has 
produced  this  remarkable  and  critical  movement  in  the  Colonial 
Church,  we  find  it  is  the  question  of  which  we  have  all  along 
been  speaking  here — the  great  question  of  the  Inspiration  of 
Scripture.  It  so  happens  that  the  first  great  and  extensive 
invasion,  in  our  Church,  of  the  historical  truth  of  Scripture, 
has  been  the  act  of  a  Colonial  Bishop.  The  Colonial  Church, 
that  is,  the  collection  of  Churches  to  which  Bishop  Colenso 
belonged,  had  to  deal  with  that  act.  That  Church  consid- 
ered, then,  that  the  mode  of  treating  the  Bible,  or  the  "  Word 
of  God,"  which  Bishop  Colenso  had  adopted,  was  contrary  to 
the  whole  Christian  idea  of,  and  Christian  sense  attaching  to, 
the  "  Word  of  God."  The  Colonial  Church  in  Africa  therefore 
condemned  him,  and  in  condemning  him  fell  back  upon  its 
independent  basis  as  a  Christian  community.  There  were 
some  complications  indeed  at  the  time  in  the  legal  grounds 
which  the  Church  took ;  it  partly  rested  upon  Letters  Patent ; 
but  even  then  it  took  the  ground  of  a  Church  not  subject  to 


256  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

the  Koyal  supremacy;  and  it  lias  since  fallen  back   upon  a 
wholly  independent  ground. 

The  foregoing  pages,  then,  give  us  the  point  of  view  at 
which  to  look  at  the  present  critical  movement  in  the  Colonial 
Church.  And  here  I  will  say,  in  limine,  that  I  am  only  con- 
cerned with  the  Colonial  Church's  proceedings  against  Bishop 
Colenso  upon  one  ground  :  there  were  certain  doctrinal  charges 
against  him,  and  some  have  risen  up  lately ;  but  I  only  take 
the  inspiration  ground  of  the  proceedings,  which  was  of  course 
the  main  one. 

1.  It  is  a  great  question — the  question  upon  which  the 
Colonial  Church  moves,  and  no  subordinate  or  technical  one. 

2.  Upon  this  question  of  the  treatment  of  the  Inspiration 
of  Scripture  the  Colonial  Church  wants  to  act  as  a  community. 
Certainly  it  could — it  is  optional  to  it — take  the  line  of  leav- 
ing  the   whole    treatment  of  Scripture,  with   respect  to   its 
inspiration  and  infallibility,  entirely  to  the  discretion  of  the 
individual  minister;  but  it  considers  this  too  fundamental  a 
question  to  treat  in  this  way.     It  finds  itself  possessed  of  a 
certain  idea  of  what  the  Bible  is,  which  has  come  down  to 
it  with  Christianity,  and  which  indeed  is  the  rooted  idea  of 
every    orthodox    dissenting   body    as    well.      This    idea    of 
Scripture,  therefore,  and  a  corresponding  treatment  of  Scripture, 
are  considered  to  be  essential.     And  that  being  the  case,  the 
community  considers  that  there  is  an  obligation  upon  it,  as  a 
community,  to  secure  the  observation  of  this   treatment  of 
Scripture  on  the  part  of  its  own  ministers  and  spiritual  officers. 
It  may  be  said,  few  would  make  a  wrong  use  of  the  liberty 
were  the  subject  left  free  ;  but  whether  this  is  true  or  not,  the 
community  considers  that  upon  a  question  of  such  vital  import- 
ance it  is  charged  with  a  responsibility  as  a  community;  and  that 
it  is  its  duty  to  treat  a  compliance  on  this  subject  as  one  of  the 
conditions  of  the  tenure  of  spiritual  office  within  its  pale. 

3.  But  the  community  could  not  thus  deal  with  this  great 
question,  tied  to  the  legal  machinery  of  the  Church  at  home, 
which  may  be  very  well  fitted  for  securing  such  Christian 
truth  as  can  be   stated  in  Articles,  but  is  not  equal  to  the 
purpose,  where  the  truth  is  of  such  a  nature  that  it  cannot  be 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  257 

thus  stated.  The  Articles  and  Formularies,  in  their  legal 
sense,  do  not  appear  to  touch  Bishop  Colenso.  The  Article 
says  the  Bible  is  the  Word  of  God.  Bishop  Colenso  says  the 
same.  He  excepts,  indeed,  from  the  infallibility  of  Scripture 
history  a  large  quantity  of  historical  matter ;  but  the  latitude 
with  respect  to  particulars  allowed  in  the  Article  is  not  defined 
in  a  way  prohibitory  of  the  extent  and  dimensions  to  which 
Bishop  Colenso  has  stretched  it,  because  it  is  not  defined  at 
all  Again,  our  Formularies  impose  the  "belief  in  all  the 
Canonical  Scriptures."  But  just  the  same  latitude  which 
attaches  to  the  infallibility  of  the  book  attaches  to  the  belief 
of  the  individual.  "The  declaration,"  says  Dr.  Lushington, 
" '  I  do  believe/  must  be  considered  with  reference  to  the 
subject-matter,  and  that  is  the  whole  Bible,  the  Old  and  New 
Testament.  The  great  number  of  these  books,  the  extreme 
antiquity  of  some ;  that  our  Scriptures  must  necessarily  con- 
sist of  copies  and  translations  ;  that  they  embrace  almost  every 
possible  variety  of  subject,  parts  being  all- important  to  the 
salvation  of  mankind,  and  parts  being  of  an  historical  and  less 
sacred  character,  certainly  not  without  some  element  of  alle- 
gory and  figures — all  these  circumstances,  I  say,  must  be  borne 
in  mind  when  the  extent  of  the  obligation  imposed  by  the  words 
'I  do  believe/  has  to  be  determined.  Influenced  by  these 
views,  I,  for  the  purpose  of  this  cause,  must  hold  that  the 
generality  of  the  expression  '  I  do  believe/  must  be  modified 
by  the  subject-matter;  that  there  must  be  a  bond  fide  belief 
that  the  Holy  Scriptures  contain  everything  necessary  to 
salvation,  and  that  to  that  extent  they  have  the  direct  sanction 
of  the  Almighty."1  The  field  of  Scripture  which  is  thrown 
open  to  criticism  by  this  particular  criterion  and  limitation  of 
the  necessity  of  belief  in  Scripture  is  certainly  wide  enough 
for  all  the  purposes  of  an  historical  critic,  who  does  not  con- 
cern himself  with  the  doctrines  of  Scripture,  but  only  with 
the  narrative  and  description  of  events.  Indeed  it  is  impos- 
sible to  see  how  Articles  which  admitted  of  any  latitude  or 
margin  on  this  subject  could  exclude,  by  their  letter,  Bishop 
Colenso' s  latitude  and  margin.  The  degree  of  the  margin  is 

1  Judgment  on  Essays  and  Reviews. 
B 


258  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

incapable  of  being  stated  in  an  Article.  The  opening  which 
admitted  others  could  not  be  logically  constructed  so  as  not  to 
admit  him. 

4.  The  Colonial  Church,  then,  in  condemning  Bishop  Co- 
lenso,  applied  a  sense  to  the  Formularies  which  was  in  excess 
of  the  legal  sense ;  but  which  was  the  sense  which  attached  to 
the  phrase  "Word  of  God"  in  the  mind  of  the  community, 
and  a  sense  which  had  been  handed  down  with  Christianity. 
The  effect  of  applying  this  sense  was  to  restrict  and  modify  a 
latitude  which  the  letter  of  the  Formularies  left  undefined ; 
and  this  restriction   condemned  Bishop  Colenso.     But  this 
result  could  not  possibly  have  been  obtained  under  the  legal 
conditions  of  the  Church  at  home.    The  "  legal  principle  of  con- 
struction" utterly  forbids  such  a  proceeding ;  enforcing  the  strict 
alternative — is  Bishop  Colenso  deposed  outside  of  these  legal 
conditions,  or  not  deposed  at  all  ?     A  person  may — some  do 
— maintain  both  that  he  ought  not  to  be  a  Bishop,  and  also 
that  he  ought  not  to  be  deposed.     They  object  to  the  result 
at  the  cost  of  the  conditions.     It  is  open  to  them  to  take  either 
side  of  the  alternative,  but  is  not  this  the  alternative  ? 

5.  The  Colonial  Church  only  resumes,  in  this  proceeding, 
its  natural  jurisdiction  as  a  Christian  community.     A  jurisdic- 
tion beyond  the  letter  of  Articles,  in  such  matter  as  cannot  be 
stated  in  Articles,  is  inherent  in  every  Christian  community. 
It  is  acknowledged  by  every  divine  of  every  school  who  ever 
wrote  about  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Church  :  it   has  always 
been  taken  for  granted ;  it  has  been  exercised  in  the  Church 
Catholic  from  its  very  foundation ;  it  is   exercised  in  every 
dissenting   community;    and  lastly,    it   resides   now,  at  this 
moment,  in  this  very  Established  Church  of  England,  within 
the  bosom  of  the  Eoyal  supremacy,  by  the  authority  of  Act  of 
Parliament.     It  is  true  the  Act  of  Parliament  is  upon  this 
point  a  dead  letter,  but  it  witnesses  to  a  principle.     It  is  true, 
there  is  established  by  circumstances  in  the  mother  Church, 
and  we  have  become  accustomed  to,  an  artificial  and  conven- 
tional  disuse  of  this  jurisdiction;  but  an   artificial  and  con- 
ventional disuse  naturally  terminates  with  the  circumstances 
which  produce  it;  and  the  use  of  the  natural  faculty  and 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  259 

right  of  the  community  comes  back.  The  right  is  gained  by 
taking  no  new  positive  step  at  all,  but  only  by  causing  a  dis- 
use, and  ^continuing  a  discontinuance. 

6.  The  Colonial  Church  may  well  ask — "  Why  should  an 
old  legal  instrument,  which  is  made  to  fit  to  an  old  state  of 
things  in  the  mother  country,  an  old  forensic  formation,  an  old 
compact  which  is  part  of  a  past  history,  be  transplanted  to  the 
fresh  and  native  soil  of  the  Colonial  Church  ?  It  may  be  the 
duty  of  you  at  home  to  acquiesce  in  a  legal  principle  which 
has  grown  up  upon  home  ground ;  the  more  because  on  the 
ground  on  which  it  has  grown  up  there  are  many  compensa- 
tions for  it ;  there  are  old  grooves  in  which  things  work,  long 
routine,  established  institutions,  venerable  customs,  ancient 
seats  of  learning,  the  solemnity  of  old  architecture,  the  Church, 
the  Cathedral,  the  College,  sacred  objects  and  sights,  and 
sources  of  sacred  impressions,  on  all  sides  of  you,  which  act  as 
'  aids  to  faith/  and  tend  to  sustain  old  ground,  when  new 
speculations  break  out.  But  we  should  start  clear,  we  want 
all  the  strength  we  can  get,  and  cannot  afford  to  part  with 
any  natural  right  of  a  Christian  community."  This  is  the 
point  of  view  in  which  the  Eoyal  supremacy  is  regarded  in 
the  Colonial  Church.  It  is  no  theoretical,  it  is  no  canonical, 
it  is  no  formal  ecclesiastical  objection  to  the  Eoyal  supremacy 
which  influences  her  in  this  mode.  It  is  entirely  a  practical 
objection,  namely,  that  the  Crown  does  not,  as  an  existing  legal 
power,  possess  the  means  for  dealing  with  this  question  of 
Inspiration ;  that  a  broader  ground  is  wanted  to  stand  upon 
than  the  Crown  by  legal  tradition  can  use,  or  allow  to  itself. 

It  so  happens,  then,  that  just  at  the  time  the  Colonial 
Church  wants  this  natural  internal  jurisdiction  for  the  purpose 
of  dealing  with  the  Inspiration  question,  this  very  jurisdiction 
is  apparently,  and  without  any  struggle,  conceded  to  it  by  our 
courts  of  law.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  quote  again  the  state- 
ment to  which  such  frequent  reference  has  been  made,  in  the 
judgment  of  the  Privy  Council  on  Long  v.  Bishop  of  Capetown, 
that  "the  Church  of  England,  in  places  where  there  is  no 
Church  established  by  law,  is  in  the  same  position  with  any 
other  religious  body,  in  no  better  but  no  worse  position ;  and 


260  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

that  the  members  may  adopt,  as  the  members  of  any  other 
communion,  rules  for  enforcing  discipline  within  their  body, 
which  will  be  binding  on  those  who  expressly  or  by  implica- 
tion have  assented  to  them," — a  statement  which  has  been 
confirmed  and  carried  out  by  the  further  position,  so  well 
known,  laid  down  in  the  judgment  on  the  case  of  Bishop 
Colenso — "  that  the  Crown,  as  legal  head  of  the  Church,  has  a 
right  to  command  the  consecration  of  a  bishop,  but  has  no 
power  to  assign  him  any  diocese,  or  give  him  any  sphere  of 
action  within  the  United  Kingdom  ...  or  in  a  Colony  or 
Settlement  which  is  possessed  of  an  independent  Legislature." 
These  judgments  obviously  give  the  Church  in  the  Colonies 
the  right  to  adopt  the  status  and  enjoy  the  full  rights  of  a 
voluntary  society,  while  on  the  other  hand  they  declare  that 
any  legal  status  which  it  may  appear  to  have  derived  from  the 
Crown  Letters  Patent  is  wholly  illusory,  the  Crown  having 
no  right  to  create  it. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  side  by  side  with  these  important 
positions  laid  down  by  the  Privy  Council,  judgments  were 
given  in  particular  cases  which  appeared  at  first  sight  to  be 
out  of  keeping  with  them  ;  but  if  we  examine  those  particular 
judgments  attentively,  we  shall  find  that  they  are  in  no  real 
contradiction  to  these  positions.  The  first  case  is  that  of  Long 
v.  Bishop  of  Capetown.  In  the  judgment  in  this  case  there  is 
no  contemplation  of  the  Church  in  Africa  as  a  voluntary  com- 
munity, having  its  own  rules,  obligatory  upon  Mr.  Long  as  a 
consentient  member.  On  the  contrary,  the  whole  matter 
between  him  and  the  Bishop  is  looked  at  from  a  strictly 
Church  of  England  point  of  view.  Attendance  on  diocesan 
synods  is  no  part  of  the  obedience  of  a  clergyman  to  a  bishop 
in  this  country ;  and  therefore  it  was  decided  that  what  was 
connected  with  this  attendance  was  no  part  of  the  obedience 
due  from  Mr.  Long  to  the  Bishop  of  Capetown. 

But  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case  entirely  account 
for  the  adoption  of  an  Established  Church  criterion  in  this 
judgment,  and  omission  of  a  voluntary  ground.  In  fact  no 
voluntary  community  was  before  the  Court.  The  Colonial 
Church  in  Africa  had  not  formed  or  organised  itself  as  a 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  261 

voluntary  community.  It  did  not  stand  before  the  Court  as 
a  body  which  had  adopted  by  voluntary  agreement  terms  of 
union  and  tribunals  of  discipline.  It  was  not  such  a  body. 
It  was  in  fact  at  that  very  time  committed  in  part  to  another 
and  contrary  aspect  of  itself,  namely,  as  possessing  jurisdiction 
from  the  Crown ;  for  the  dioceses,  the  metropolitanship  stood 
upon  the  Letters  Patent.  But  under  this  idea  of  a  Crown 
jurisdiction,  it  could  not  well  construct  a  consensual  jurisdic- 
tion. The  Court,  therefore,  could  not  and  did  not  take  cogni- 
sance of  it  as  a  voluntary  association ;  and  therefore  applied  a 
different  mode  of  treatment  to  the  case,  than  it  would  in  the 
instance  of  a  voluntary  association  have  applied.  The  ground 
of  contract  with  a  society  is  the  basis  of  all  judgments  with 
respect  to  voluntary  societies.  If  an  individual  enters  a 
society  having  certain  rules  and  terms  of  membership,  to 
which  he  gives  explicit  or  implicit  assent,  he  makes  a  contract 
with  that  society,  and  that  contract  is  enforced  by  a  Court,  by 
a  reference  to  the  rules  of  the  society.  But  here,  there  being 
110  organised  voluntary  society  before  the  Court,  the  form  of 
the  contract  underwent  a  modification  and  became,  from  a 
contract  of  an  individual  with  a  society,  the  contract  of  an 
individual  with  an  individual.  And  this  contract  between 
individuals  was  interpreted  by  a  reference  to  custom  and 
usage.  There  were  two  individuals,  two  single  ecclesiasti- 
cal persons,  before  the  Court,  Mr.  Long,  a  clergyman,  and 
Bishop  Gray,  a  Bishop.  Mr.  Long  enjoyed  the  endowment 
of  the  Church  of  Mowbray,  on  the  condition  of  obeying 
Bishop  Gray ;  what  was  the  particular  nature  of  the  obedience 
due,  and  did  it  involve  anything  connected  with  Synods? 
Well,  then,  if  there  is  any  dispute  about  conditions  of  appren- 
ticeship, farm  service,  household  service,  a  Court,  in  lack  of 
definite  terms  of  engagement,  goes  to  the  custom  and  rule  of 
the  district;  when  a  contract  involves  the  employment  of 
certain  material,  and  this  is  indefinitely  expressed,  the  reference 
is  often  the  same.  In  the  contract,  then,  between  Mr.  Long 
and  Bishop  Gray,  the  condition  of  obedience  was,  in  the 
absence  of  exact  specification,  construed  by  a  reference  to  the 
custom  and  rule  of  the  district  whence  the  two  parties  came. 


262  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

Bishop  Gray  was  consecrated  in  England  by  Koyal  mandate, 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  officiating.  The  Court,  there- 
fore, interpreted  the  obedience  which  Mr.  Long  had  bargained  to 
pay  to  Bishop  Gray  by  an  English  Church  standard ;  which,  as 
it  did  not  involve  the  special  claim  about  Synods  now  made, 
ruled  the  case  in  favour  of  Mr.  Long.  No  corporate  body 
appeared  in  this  case ;  there  was  nobody  over  a  diocese ;  there 
was  nobody  in  a  diocese ;  there  was  no  diocese ;  there  was  no 
Church ;  there  was  no  community ;  there  were  two  men ;  and 
the  engagement  between  them  was  interpreted  by  this  criterion. 

It  mustbe  observed  that  the  peculiar  form  of  contract,  namely, 
between  two  individuals,  to  which  the  Court  was  here  reduced, 
was  selected  because  it  had  to  fit  on  to  a  peculiar,  an  inter- 
mediate, and  a  temporary  state  of  things.  There  are  two 
permanent  and  regular  bases  on  which  religious  communions 
stand ;  one,  that  of  establishments ;  the  other,  that  of  organ- 
ised voluntary  societies ;  but  here  was  a  communion  going  on, 
popularly  by  the  name  of  the  English  Church,  which  did  not 
come  under  either  of  these  heads, — was  not  an  establishment 
no  the  one  hand,  or  an  organised  voluntary  association  on  the 
other.  It  had  parted  from  the  former  status  to  which  it  only 
hung  on  by  an  illusory  thread ;  it  had  not  yet  assumed  the 
latter  ;  it  was  in  a  neutral  intermediate  condition.  How  was  it 
to  be  treated  legally  ?  Had  it  been  an  establishment,  the  ques- 
tion would  have  been  decided  by  law ;  had  it  been  a  voluntary 
society,  by  the  terms  of  the  contract  with  the  society;  as 
it  was,  the  fertile  imagination  of  our  lawyers  hit  upon  a  con- 
tract between  individuals,  which,  as  a  legal  contrivance,  just 
caught  the  Church  in  transitu,  and  answered  the  occasion. 

The  issue  then  of  this  judgment  was  important,  as  practi- 
cally interpreting  the  great  dictum  in  it,  "  The  Church  (in  the 
Colonies)  is  in  the  same  position  with  any  other  religious 
body,  no  better  but  no  worse,  the  members  of  which  may  adopt, 
as  the  members  of  any  other  communion,  rules  for  enforcing 
discipline,  which  will  be  binding  on  those  who  have  assented 
to  them."  The  Colonial  Church  "is"  in  the  same  position, 
etc. :  this  does  not  mean  that  the  Church  is  in  that  position,  if 
it  does  nothing  at  all  to  put  itself  in  such  a  position,  if  it  goes 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  263 

on  loosely,  in  the  same  state  in  which  it  left  this  country.  No : 
it  "  may  adopt,"  and  if  it  wants  to  gain  such  a  position,  it  must 
"  adopt  rules  for  enforcing  discipline,  which  will  be  binding  on 
those  who  have  assented  to  them," — it  must  formally  organise 
itself  as  a  voluntary  communion.  There  has  been,  I  think,  a 
popular  idea  that  this  dictum  gives  the  position  of  a  regular 
voluntary  communion  actually  to  the  Church  in  the  Colonies, 
existing  any  how,  but  it  does  not :  it  only  gives  the  Church  the 
right  to  put  itself  in  that  position.  The  Church  cannot  put 
itself  into  this  position  in  England ;  it  can  in  the  Colonies ; 
that  is  the  difference.  We  remember  the  case  of  Mr.  Shore. 
No  section  of  bishops  and  clergy  could  by  law  establish  itself 
as  a  voluntary  communion  upon  our  diocesan  area  at  home. 
This  prohibition  is  removed  when  we  get  upon  Colonial  ground. 
But  the  Colonial  Church  is  not  in  this  position  unless  it 
puts  itself  into  it.  Dissenting  bodies  come  into  court  with 
their  deeds  which  show  their  internal  government,  and  justify 
the  act  of  authority.  The  Colonial  Church  must  show  its 
rules  and  tribunals  agreed  upon  by  the  society.  Lord  Eomilly 
lays  down  this  right  of  the  Colonial  Church  just  as  the  Privy 
Council  does.  "  The  members  of  the  Church  in  South  Africa 
may  create  an  ecclesiastical  tribunal  to  try  ecclesiastical 
matters  between  themselves,  and  may  agree  that  the  decisions 
of  such  tribunals  shall  be  final,  whatever  be  their  nature  or 
effect.  Upon  this  being  proved,  the  civil  tribunal  would 
enforce  the  decisions  against  all  the  persons  who  had  agreed  to 
be  bound  by  those  decisions,"  and  it  will  do  so  without 
inquiring  into  those  decisions.  Again, — "  If  they  adopted  the 
Church  of  England  Creed  and  doctrines,  but  repudiated  a  part 
of  its  rules  and  ordinances,  they  would  be  bound  by  those 
which  they  had  adopted,  and  not  by  those  which  belonged  to 
the  Church  of  England,  but  which  they  had  rejected.  It 
would,  however,  be  incumbent  upon  them  fully  and  plainly  to 
set  forth  what  these  rules  and  ordinances  were,  and  who 
accepted  them ;  in  order  that  this  might  prevent  doubt  when 
the  Courts  of  Law  were  called  upon  to  enforce  obedience  to 
these  rules  and  ordinances." 

Had  the  Colonial  Church  in  Africa,  then,  been  an  organised 


2O4  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

voluntary  communion,  with  certain  final  episcopal  tribunals  for 
the  trials  of  ecclesiastical  offences,  when  Mr.  Long  entered  its 
ministry;  the  sentence  of  one  of  those  tribunals  would  have 
been  accepted  by  the  Court,  and  the  case  would  have  been 
decided  against  Mr.  Long.  But  no  such  body  being  before  the 
Court,  the  case  was  tested  by  another  criterion,  which  decided 
it  in  his  favour. 

The  other  judgment  of  Privy  Council,  which  took  no 
cognisance  of  a  voluntary  communion  in  Africa,  was  that 
given  in  the  matter  of  the  deposition  of  Bishop  Colenso.  This 
judgment  only  took  cognisance  of  two  grounds,  that  of  the 
Letters  Patent,  which  was  the  chief  and  main  ground  noticed, 
and  that  of  a  contract  between  two  persons,  or  the  alleged 
engagement  of  Bishop  Colenso  to  Bishop  Gray,  by  reason  of 
having  taken  the  Suffragan's  oath.  No  voluntary  communion 
ground  of  the  right  of  deposition  was  taken  cognisance  of. 
But  the  same  reason  for  the  omission  of  the  ground  existed  in 
this  case  that  did  in  the  other,  namely,  that  the  Church  in  Africa 
had  not  organised  itself  as,  and  did  not  stand  before  the  Court 
as,  a  voluntary  communion.  The  African  Metropolitan,  indeed, 
while  he  stated  three  grounds  for  the  validity  of  his  own 
jurisdiction,  and  the  act  of  deposition  to  rest  upon, — his 
appointment  as  Metropolitan  by  Letters  Patent, — his  mission 
as  Metropolitan  from  the  Church  at  home,  supposed  to  go  along 
with  the  Letters  Patent, — and  the  engagement  which  Bishop 
Colenso  had  made  in  the  Suffragan's  oath, — did  not  maintain 
any  ground  derived  from  the  agreement  of  a  voluntary  com- 
munity in  Africa.  Indeed  the  Church  there  has  suffered  all 
along  from  what  was  the  result  of  circumstances — a  stand  upon 
two  conflicting  grounds,  either  of  which  incapacitated  it  for 
taking  advantage  of  the  other.  The  Letters  Patent  establishing 
an  Episcopal  and  a  Metropolitan  jurisdiction  were  assumed  as 
legal  ground  and  authority,  upon  which  the  Church  could  act, 
and  it  did  act  upon  them  till  their  nullity  was  exposed.  Mean- 
while an  Episcopacy,  with  its  Metropolitan  head,  standing  as 
it  did  upon  the  legal  warrant  of  the  ecclesiastical  supremacy 
of  the  Crown,  did  not  trouble  itself  to  construct  and  secure  the 
basis  of  a  voluntary  community. 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  265 

Again,  the  right  of  the  Colonial  Church  to  do  that  which  no 
section  of  the  Church  at  home  can  do,  namely,  to  put  itself  into 
the  position  of  a  voluntary  community,  is  not  at  all  affected  by 
the  recent  judgment  of  the  Master  of  the  Eolls.  I  have  quoted 
above  passages  from  that  judgment,  which  lay  down  exactly  the 
same  law  with  respect  to  this  right  of  the  Colonial  Church, 
which  the  Privy  Council  has  laid  down.  Upon  another  question 
however,  which  is  not  in  the  long-run  of  so  much  importance, 
namely,  what  the  status  of  the  Colonial  Church  in  Africa  is  now 
at  this  moment,  Lord  Eomilly  appears  to  be  at  direct  issue  with 
the  Privy  Council.  Contemplated  as  a  formed  voluntary 
association,  organised  upon  a  basis  of  self-government,  neither 
the  Privy  Council  nor  Lord  Eomily  have  a  shadow  of  a  doubt 
as  to  the  legal  status  of  the  Colonial  Church,  namely,  that  it  is 
not  legally  a  part  of  the  Church  of  England,  but  "  in  the  same 
position  with  any  other  religious  body."  But  the  particular 
question  which  Lord  Eomilly  had  to  decide  took  him  mainly 
upon  other  ground,  and  directed  his  attention  to  another  point 
of  view.  He  had  to  consider  the  Church  in  Africa  not  as  to 
what  it  might  be  if  it  chose, — as  what  it  had  a  right  to  make 
itself  if  it  pleased ;  but  he  had  to  consider  it  as  it  actually  was 
at  that  moment.  Trust  money  had  been  made  over  to  a 
Bishop  of  the  Church  of  England  ;  it  was  due  now.  Was  an 
African  Bishop  a  Bishop  of  the  Church  of  England  ?  It  was  a 
possible  opinion  then,  even  if  an  off-hand  and  incorrect  one, 
that  the  popular  sense  was  enough  in  the  present  case,  and  that 
he  was  such  in  the  popular  sense.  Other  grounds,  wide  of  the 
legal  identity  of  the  two  Churches,  upon  which  the  pecuniary 
right  of  the  Bishop  might  be  placed,  are  imaginable.  But  Lord 
Eomilly  decided  that  the  money  was  due  to  him,  and  decided 
it  upon  the  particular  ground  of  a  legal  identity— that  the 
Colonial  Church  in  Africa  was  now,  at  this  moment,  legally  a 
part  of  the  United  Church  of  England  and  Ireland. 

Perfectly  agreed  then  about  a  supposed  Colonial  Church, — 
supposed  to  be  organised  as  a  voluntary  self-governing  body, 
Lord  Eomilly  and  the  Privy  Council  appear  to  differ  toto  ccelo 
about  the  actual  existing  Colonial  Church.  The  Privy  Council 
says  that  "the  Crown  has  no  power  to  assign  a  Bishop  any 


266  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

diocese,  or  give  him  any  sphere  of  action  in  the  United  King- 
dom ...  or  a  Colony  which  is  possessed  of  an  independent 
Legislature."  The  denial  of  a  legal  diocese  and  a  legal  juris- 
diction to  the  Colonial  Church  at  once  cuts  asunder  the  legal 
identity  of  that  Church  now  at  this  moment  with  the  Estab- 
lished Church  of  England.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Master  of 
the  Eolls  bases  the  legal  identity  of  the  two  upon  the  affirma- 
tion of  a  legal  diocese.  "  The  law  leaves  all  these  [Episcopal] 
functions  exactly  as  ly  the  law  of  the  Church  of  England  they 
belong  to  that  office.  He  m.ay  as  a  Bishop  visit,  he  may  call  before 
him  the  ministers  within  his  diocese."  He  is  a  titular  Bishop  all 
the  world  over,  "he  is  a  territorial  Bishop  within  his  see  or 
diocese."  Certain  considerations  bearing  upon  an  African 
diocese  cannot,  he  says,  "  annihilate  the  see,  or  make  it  cease 
to  be  a  legal  diocese."  The  legal  identity  of  the  Colonial  Church 
with  the  Church  in  England  follows.  "  The  Church  of  England 
may  extend  and  have  branches  in  places  where  it  is  not 
established  by  law."  "The  Colony  of  Natal  is  a  district 
presided  over  by  a  Bishop  of  the  Church  of  England,  which  is 
properly  termed  a  see  or  diocese,"  and  "  the  Church  in  Natal 
is  not  a  Church  in  union  or  full  communion  with  the  Church 
of  England,  but  a  part  of  the  Church  of  England  itself  ...  in 
the  strict  sense  of  the  term." — "  So  far  from  no  legal  identity 
existing  between  the  Church  presided  over  in  the  Colonies, 
and  the  United  Church  of  England  and  Ireland,  I  have  arrived 
at  the  very  opposite  conclusion,"  etc. 

Without  presuming  to  criticise  legally  the  judgment  of  so 
distinguished  a  lawyer,  I  may  yet  make  the  observation  that 
such  a  judgment  does  run  counter  to  some  very  natural  and 
ordinary  tests.1  It  would  ordinarily  be  thought  a  condition 
necessary  to  being  the  same  legal  body,  that  there  should  be  a 
corporate  unity, — one  organisation ;  that  it  should  be  under  one 
common  head  or  supreme  jurisdiction.  The  Established  Church 
is  under  the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the  Crown.  Is  the 
Colonial  Church  under  the  same  ecclesiastical  supremacy  ?  The 

1  Mr.  Bernard's  legal  criticism,  in  his  Remarks  on  some  late  Decisions, 
etc. ,  brings  out  with  singular  acuteness  the  legal  aspects  of  the  case,  and  the 
legal  principles  which  militate  against  this  judgment. 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  267 

test  is  an  exceedingly  simple  one,  and  lies  in  the  powers  of  the 
Bishop's  Court.  A  Bishop's  court,  which  is  under  the  ecclesi- 
astical supremacy  of  the  Crown,  must  derive  powers  from  that 
supremacy — legal  powers  from  its  legal  head;  it  cannot  be 
under  it,  without  being  empowered  ~by  it :  it  is,  as  being  under 
the  supremacy,  the  agent  and  the  executive  of  it.  A  Bishop's 
court  in  this  country  is  thus  a  court  of  law,  because  it  is  under 
the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the  Crown.  If  a  Bishop's  court, 
therefore,  in  the  Colonies  is  under  the  same  ecclesiastical 
supremacy,  it  too  must  be  a  court  of  law.  But  the  Master  of 
the  Eolls  says  that  it  is  not,  and  indeed  the  fact  is  very  obvious  : 
— "  The  tribunal  of  the  Bishop  [Colonial]  is  &  forum  domesticum, 
and  not  a  State  tribunal."  The  Colonial  Bishop's  tribunal 
thus  derives  no  powers  from  the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the 
Crown :  the  Colonial  Bishop's  tribunal,  therefore,  is  not  under 
that  supremacy;  the  Colonial  Church  is  not  under  it;  and 
therefore  the  Colonial  Church  is  not  one  legal  body  with  the 
Established  Church.  The  two  bodies  do  not  belong  to  the 
same  organisation.  The  Colonial  Church  is  outside  of  that 
great  legal  structure  which  culminates  in  the  Eoyal  supremacy. 
All  that  is  not  under  the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the  Crown 
is  not  the  United  Church  of  England  and  Ireland  or  an  integral 
portion  of  it. 

This  link  between  legal  powers  and  legal  dependence  in 
the  case  of  the  Church  is  important.  There  is  abundance  of 
language  in  all  quarters  to  the  effect  that  the  Established 
Church  is  no  part  of  the  constitution  of  the  Colonies,  that  the 
Church  there  has  no  legal  powers ;  but  this  language  just  stops 
short  of  the  inevitable  consequence,  namely,  that  the  Church  has 
no  legal  dependence.  There  is  a  half-notion  that  the  supremacy 
there  has  rights  over  the  Church,  without  at  the  same  time 
giving  powers.  But  the  powers  and  the  dependence  are  but 
different  sides  of  the  same  fact,  one  of  which  is  not  had  without 
the  other. 

But  has  the  Colonial  Bishop  no  kind  of  jurisdiction  because 
he  has  not  a  "  coercive  "  jurisdiction?  Undoubtedly  he  has  ;  but 
the  jurisdiction  which  flows  and  is  received  from  the  ecclesiastical 
supremacy  of  the  Crown  is  coercive.  If  the  Bishop's  tribunal 


268  The  Colonial  Church  Qiiestion. 

then  has  no  coercive  jurisdiction,  it  receives  no  jurisdiction  from 
the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the  Crown.  But  the  criterion 
of  being  under  the  supremacy  is  receiving  jurisdiction  from  it. 

"  But  the  Bishop  can,  for  the  enforcement  of  his  sentence, 
resort  to  the  Civil  Court."  Yes;  he  can  get  his  sentence 
enforced,  but  plainly,  by  the  very  terms  of  the  statement,  not  by 
the  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  of  the  Crown.  The  Master  of  the 
Eolls  says  with  perfect  truth,  "  the  Bishop  is  not  left  powerless, 
nor  can  persons  with  impunity  resist  his  authority.  ...  He 
can  exercise  all  the  functions  of  a  Bishop  of  an  English  diocese 
with  this  exception,  that  his  orders  are  enforced  by  a  civil 
tribunal."  But  upon  the  special  point  now  at  issue,  is  not  this 
"exception"  everything?  The  above  statement  would  leave 
upon  a  casual  reader  the  impression  that  the  Eoyal  ecclesiastical 
supremacy  was  substantially  in  the  same  force  in  the  Colonies 
that  it  is  in  England,  only  that  it  acted  by  a  different  legal 
medium,  a  different  instrumental  process.  But  nothing  can 
show  more  clearly  and  more  directly  that  the  Colonial  Church 
is  not  under  the  Eoyal  supremacy  than  the  single  circumstance 
of  the  interposition  of  a  Civil  Court  in  the  matter.  The 
ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  of  the  Crown  puts  itself  into  execution  : 
it  flows  down  in  one  continuous  line  from  its  head  and  spring 
in  the  Crown  itself  to  its  terminus  in  the  individual  who  is  the 
recipient  and  subject  of  it.  The  break  of  an  intervening 
Civil  Court,  therefore,  is  fatal  to  such  a  jurisdiction,  and  nullifies 
it  from  the  very  root ;  for  if  it  existed  it  would  not  want  that 
Court  to  reinforce  it.  The  same  Crown  ecclesiastical  jurisdic- 
tion which  tries  the  case  enforces  the  sentence ;  but  here,  one 
Court  tries,  another  enforces. 

It  is  not  then  that  the  Crown's  ecclesiastical  supremacy  is 
maintained  in  a  different  way  in  the  Colonies,  by  a  different 
medium.  This  language  is  sometimes  used,  but  such  language 
in  truth  disguises  the  real  fact,  namely,  that  no  supremacy  exists 
at  all  there  but  that  which  is  especially  not  ecclesiastical,  but 
only  civil ;  no  supremacy  but  that  under  which  a  Baptist  con- 
gregation conies  just  as  much  as  the  Colonial  Church.  The 
Crown  has  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  over  the  Established  Church  ; 
it  decides  strictly  ecclesiastical  questions  as  the  ultimate  and 


The  Colonial  CImrch  Question,  269 

supreme  tribunal  of  that  Church  :  the  Crown  has  not  ecclesias  - 
tical  jurisdiction  over  a  Baptist  community,  because  it  does 
not  decide  the  religious  questions  of  that  body.  But  the 
Crown  has  a  civil  jurisdiction  over  a  Baptist  community,  to  see 
that  it  fulfils  its  engagements  to  individuals,  and  does  not 
violate  them.  That  jurisdiction  of  the  Crown,  then,  which  a 
Baptist  congregation  is  under,  the  Colonial  Church  is  under, 
and  no  other.  It  would  be  evidently  incorrect  to  say  that  the 
Eoyal  supremacy  was  maintained  in  a  different  way,  over  a 
Baptist  congregation,  from  that  in  which  it  was  maintained 
over  the  Established  Church  ;  because  it  is  another  supremacy, 
another  jurisdiction  altogether  which  is  maintained.  And  the 
same  expression,  if  applied  to  the  Colonial  Church,  is  incorrect 
for  the  same  reason. 

Lord  Komilly  bases  his  assertion  of  the  legal  identity  of  the 
two  Churches  upon  the  affirmation  of  a  "  legal  diocese."  The 
jurisdiction  of  the  Colonial  Bishop  is  non-legal  indeed,  and  only 
that  of  a  forum  domesticum,  but  his  diocese  is  legal.  I  ain 
unable  to  understand  how  a  legal  diocese  can  go  along  with  a 
non-legal  jurisdiction.  A  diocese  is  a  local  area  within  which 
a  Bishop's  jurisdiction  is  confined.  A  legal  diocese  is  this  area 
as  marked  out  by  law.  But  a  non-legal  jurisdiction  stands,  in 
the  eye  of  the  law,  upon  a  contract  between  two  parties.  Can 
the  law  then  affix  a  local  area  and  limitation  of  place  to  con- 
tracts, and  say  that  two  parties  shall  only  contract  with  each 
other,  for  their  own  private  convenience,  within  certain  limits  ? 
Such  a  local  limitation  appears  incongruous.  It  is  therefore 
difficult  to  understand  how  a  "  legal  diocese  "  can  be  affixed  to 
a  non-legal  jurisdiction.  But  supposing  one  could  be,  it  still 
would  not  be  a  legal  diocese  in  the  sense  which  is  here  wanted  ; 
it  would  not  be  a  legal  diocese  in  suck  a  sense  as  to  constitute 
a  legal  identity  of  the  Colonial  Church  with  the  Established 
Church.  To  constitute  that  identity,  a  legal  Colonial  diocese 
in  the  sense  of  the  sphere  and  area  of  a  legal  jurisdiction  is 
wanted ;  in  which  case  a  common  jurisdiction  received  from 
the  Supremacy  places  both  Churches  alike  under  the  Supre- 
macy, and  so  satisfies  the  ordinary  test  of  legal  identity.  But 
a  "  legal  diocese,"  which  receives  no  such  jurisdiction  from  the 


270  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

Supremacy,  does  not  place  under  the  Supremacy,  or  therefore 
satisfy  the  ordinary  and  natural  test  of  legal  identity. 

Lord  Eomilly  has  made  the  supposition  of  a  voluntary 
religious  communion  in  a  Colony  founded  upon  the  one  wish, 
duly  and  formally  stated,  to  be  in  every  respect  whatever, 
doctrinal  and  other,  like  the  Church  of  England.  Such  a 
religious  association,  he  says,  would  be  "  strictly  "  part  of  the 
Church  of  England — by  strictly  meaning,  I  presume,  legally. 
"  If  certain  persons  constitute  themselves  a  voluntary  associa- 
tion in  any  Colony,  as  members  of  the  Church  of  England, 
then,  as  I  apprehend,  they  are  strictly  brethren  and  members  of 
that  Church.  They  are  bound  by  the  same  doctrines,  the  same 
rules,  ordinances,  and  discipline.  If  any  recourse  should  needs 
be  had  to  the  civil  tribunals,  the  question  at  issue  must  be  tried 
by  the  same  rules  of  law  which  would  prevail  if  the  question 
were  tried  in  England."  I  will  take  his  Lordship's  authority 
for  the  latter  point,  namely,  that  such  an  association  would  have 
its  questions  decided  by  Privy  Council  sitting  as  a  court  of 
civil  appeal,  exactly  as  the  same  questions  would  be  decided 
by  it,  sitting  as  a  court  of  ecclesiastical  appeal,  upon  cases 
belonging  to  the  Established  Church.  But  I  do  not  understand 
how  this  would  make  the  association  legally  part  of  the 
Established  Church  of  England.  The  resolution  to  be  alto- 
gether like  the  Church  of  England  does  not  make  this  body 
the  Church  of  England.  It  is  still  a  voluntary  association ; 
its  very  likeness  to  or  resolution  to  be  like  the  Church  of 
England  stands  upon  a  voluntary  basis  :  it  may  change  that 
basis  any  day  that  it  likes  without  the  consent  of  the  Crown. 
It  is  totally  separated  from  the  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  of  the 
Crown,  which  takes  no  cognisance  of  its  existence. 

I  am  unable  to  see  again  what  support  Lord  Eomilly  can 
extract  for  his  position  from  the  Long  v.  Capetown  Judgment. 
"  This  whole  judgment,"  he  says,  "proceeds  on  the  assumption, 
and  is  based  on  the  foundation  that  the  Church  '[the  Colonial 
Church  in  Africa]  is  a  portion  of  the  Church  of  England  .  .  . 
that  the  Colony  [African]  is  presided  over  by  Bishops  of  the 
Church  of  England,  who  have  sees  and  dioceses  properly  so 
termed."  I  am  unable  to  see  any  diocese  in  that  judgment ; 


The  Colonial  Chzirch  Question.  271 

only  two  individuals.  It  must  be  admitted,  indeed,  that  that 
case  was  decided  by  a  reference  to  the  Established  Church's 
standard  of  what  was  comprised  in  the  Episcopal  claim  of 
obedience.  But  was  that  because  the  Church  in  Africa  was 
regarded  as  part  of  the  Church  of  England ;  or  because  the 
terms  of  a  private  contract  were  interpreted  by  the  rule  and 
custom  of  the  Church  of  England  ? 

The  theory  of  legal  identity,  then,  which  the  Master  of  the 
Kolls  has  propounded,  is  one  which  I  am  unable  to  understand. 
But  had  his  Lordship  put  a  theory  of  identity  into  the  form  of  a 
simple  practical  assertion,  that  the  Church  in  our  Colonies, 
until  it  organises  itself  as  a  voluntary  association,  will  be 
treated  in  our  Courts,  as  if  it  were  part  of  the  Church  of  England, 
it  does  not  appear  to  me  that  much  fault  could  have  been 
found  with  his  judgment.  It  is  but  too  likely  that  this  will 
be  the  case ;  the  judgment  in  Long  v.  Capetown  speaks  to  this 
point  in  a  way  that  cannot  be  mistaken.  Where  no  organised 
voluntary  society  is  before  the  Court,  the  principle  of  a  con- 
tract between  two  individuals  will  be  applied,  and  the  condi- 
tions of  that  contract  will  be  interpreted  by  an  Established 
Church  criterion  and  standard.  The  practical  result  then  will  be 
the  same  that  is  arrived  at  upon  Lord  Eomilly's  theory ;  and 
the  Privy  Council  will  give,  as  a  civil  court  of  appeal  from 
the  Colonies,  the  same  judgments  that  it  would  have  given 
had  the  same  questions  come  before  it  as  the  ecclesiastical 
court  of  appeal  at  home.  The  Colonial  Church  then  must  not 
go  relying  on  that  dictum  of  the  Privy  Council,  that  the 
Church  of  England  in  the  Colonies  "  is  in  the  same  position 
with  any  other  religious  bodies,"  as  if  that  dictum  did  any- 
thing for  it  without  any  steps  on  its  own  part.  It  must  put 
itself  under  that  dictum,  by  organising  itself  as  a  voluntary 
religious  body.  The  dictum  supposes  this  to  be  done,  and 
does  not  apply  to  it  existing  in  a  loose  unformed  state. 

The  Church  in  Africa  has  not  hitherto,  so  far  as  I  am  able 
to  recollect,  organised  itself  formally  upon  a  voluntary  basis. 
What  it  has  done  has  doubtless  represented  the  will,  and  the 
intention,  and  the  spirit  of  the  body.  Its  ecclesiastical  struc- 
ture, as  a  collection  of  Churches  under  a  Metropolitan,  has 


272  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

doubtless  been  implicitly  consented  to  and  adopted  by  the 
body.  Still  this  structure  hitherto  wants  a  formal  consensual 
basis,  as  well  as  a  formal  basis  of  another  kind.  It  was  not 
erected  by  Eoyal  Prerogative ;  it  was  not  erected  by  any 
home  Church  authority,  acting  along  with,  and  side  by  side 
with,  the  Royal  Prerogative,  for  the  Church  at  home  can 
only  act  formally  through  the  Royal  Prerogative;  it  has  not 
been  erected  by  the  voluntary  act  of  the  African  body ;  it  has 
only  been  implicitly  acquiesced  in  by  that  body  after  having 
been  erected  illusively  by  Letters  Patent.  That  is  the  state 
of  things.  It  is  a  question,  therefore,  which  deserves  the  con- 
sideration of  that  body,  whether  it  would  not  be  acting  well 
to  rectify  the  defect,  whatever  it  may  be,  in  its  position  ;  and 
to  give  this  ecclesiastical  structure  a  definite  basis,  and  itself 
a  regular  standing  of  a  voluntary  communion  before  our 
Courts,  by  organising  itself.  And,  particularly,  it  is  worth  con- 
sidering whether  it  would  not  be  wise  to  do  this  before  taking 
a  new  important  step. 

The  ground  is  certainly  open,  if  we  are  to  adopt  the  plain 
construction  of  Privy  Council  law,  for  the  erection  of  a  new 
bishopric  in  substitution  for  that  of  Natal ;  nor  can  this  ground 
be  affected  by  any  doubts  that  may  be  raised  as  to  the  validity 
of  the  deposition  of  Bishop  Colenso.  For  if,  as  the  Privy 
Council  declares,  the  Episcopal  jurisdiction  of  the  latter  never 
existed,  the  deposed  gains  nothing,  and  the  deposer  loses 
nothing,  by  the  defective  validity  of  his  deposition  from  it. 
His  place  is,  by  the  original  nullity  of  the  creation  of  it,  vacant. 
Whether  we  take  a  legal,  or  whether  we  take  a  consensual 
ground,  the  same  defect  that  applies  to  the  position  of  the 
Metropolitan  who  deposed  applies  to  the  position  of  the 
Suffragan  deposed  ;  whose  office  is  on  either  ground  null  and 
void,  for  the  very  reason  that  his  deposition  is.  But  though 
the  ground  is  open,  and  though  a  very  able  person  has  been 
chosen  to  fill  it,  should  not  the  African  Church,  before  adopt- 
ing this  step,  put  itself  in  such  a  position  as  not  only  to  be  a 
voluntary  society,  but  to  be  cognisable  as  such  by  our  Courts  ; 
by  organising  itself  upon  a  voluntary  basis,  and  by  putting  its 
rules  and  regulations,  and  the  constitution  of  its  tribunals,  into 


The  Colonial  Church  Question.  273 

a  documentary  shape  ?    The  Canadian  Church  appears  already 
to  have  put  itself  in  that  position. 

I  am  glad  to  see  that  the  Bishop  of  Capetown,  whose 
energy  and  lofty  spirit,  firmly  supported  by  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  and  Bishop  of  Oxford,  have  so  sustained  his 
Church  under  difficult  circumstances,  announces  the  design  of 
an  assembly,  although  not  an  immediate  one,  of  the  whole 
African  Church  in  order  "  to  perfect  its  organisation."  "  As  to 
action  here,"  says  his  Lordship,  "  I  do  not  think  myself  the 
time  has  yet  arrived  for  our  meeting  together  to  consider  the 
state  of  the  Church,  or  to  perfect  its  organisation.  ...  If  the 
time  had  arrived  for  action,  I  should  be  prepared  to  invite  the 
clergy  and  the  representatives  of  the  laity  to  a  provincial 
gathering."1  A  regular  organisation  would  place  the  African 
Church  upon  a  totally  different  ground,  with  respect  to  our 
courts  of  law,  from  that  upon  which  it  at  present  stands.  No 
courts  take  cognisance  of  it  as  a  voluntary  communion  now  ; 
not  the  Privy  Council,  not  the  Eolls  Court.  Upon  that  point 
both  Courts  agree.  But  let  it  only  organise  itself,  and  it 
stands  clear  of  the  obstructions  which  arise  in  both  Courts  to 
its  free  action.  The  effect  of  the  judgment  of  the  Master  of 
the  Eolls,  regarded  in  a  practical  light,  has  perhaps  been 
exaggerated.  It  only  touches,  it  only  professes  to  touch,  the 
African  Church  in  its  state  at  the,  moment.  It  does  not  touch 
it  as  an  organised  voluntary  communion  which  it  may  become. 
On  the  contrary,  nobody  could  state  in  clearer  language  than 
the  Master  of  the  Eolls  has  done,  that  that  Church,  as  an 
organised  voluntary  communion,  will  be  an  independent  body, 
and  will  be  treated  by  a  Court  of  law  as  such,  without  reference 
to  any  other  rules  and  regulations  than  its  own.  His  judg- 
ment, therefore,  only  touches  the  Church  in  .transitu,  in  a 
passing  state,  in  the  interim  before  the  Church  takes  to  another 
basis.  If,  as  must  surely  sooner  or  later  be  the  case,  the 
whole  Colonial  Church  does  take  this  other  basis,  then  his 
judgment  in  the  long-run  does  not  affect  it.  It  only  affects  it 
now.  It  is  natural  of  course  that  people's  minds  should  be 

1  Letter  to  the  Members  of  the  Church  in  the  Diocese  of  Capetown  by 
the  Bishop  of  Capetown. 


2  74  The  Colonial  Church  Question. 

much  absorbed  in  whatever  applies  to  the  existing  moment ; 
but  still  whatever  admits  of  being  rectified  by  the  work  of  the 
future  is  only  a  passing  concern. 

We  need  not  underrate  the  difficulties  of  such  a  future 
work,  or  shut  our  eyes  to  the  important  circumstance  that 
there  are  two  parties  in  the  Colonial  Church  upon  this  very 
question  of  the  ground  to  be  adopted  by  it.  We  cannot  deny 
the  perfect  right  of  any  number  of  members  of  the  Church  of 
England  in  Africa  now  to  adopt,  if  they  please,  and  if  they  can, 
the  Established  Church  and  the  Eoyal  supremacy  ground,  as 
distinct  from  the  ground  of  a  voluntary  communion.  If  a 
strict  legal  unity  with  the  Established  Church  is  closed  by 
staying  outside  of  any  African  organisation,  or  by  forming 
themselves,  according  to  the  supposition  of  the  Master  of  the 
Eolls,  into  a  society  which  would  say  in  terms — I  wish  to  be 
in  everything  similar  to  the  Established  Church,  they  might 
practically  pursue  this  object ;  and  if  they  did  so,  they  would 
be  only  exercising  an  option  and  a  preference  to  which  they 
had  a  perfect  right.  There  would,  however,  be  great  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  such  object ;  one  especially — notwithstanding 
the  accident  of  one  existing  Bishop — the  want  of  Bishops  and 
of  Clergy.  Such  a  body  would  not  probably  be  forthcoming. 
The  cause  with  which  such  an  attempt  would  be  associated  is 
opposed  to  the  faith  of  the  people.  The  existing  body  of 
Bishops  and  Clergy  has  weight  and  prestige.  All  these  and 
other  considerations  point  to  but  one  solution  of  the  question 
before  us,  namely,  the  ultimate  organisation  of  the  whole  Colonial 
Church  upon  a  voluntary  basis.  There  are  difficulties  at  first 
starting,  but  they  are  only  the  difficulties  of  a  start ;  they  are 
complications  and  intricacies  naturally  attending  the  transition 
from  one  situation  to  another.  The  legal  identity  of  the  two 
Churches  is  not  a  favourable  ground  for  trust  property  to  stand 
upon — as  much  of  it,  that  is,  as  would  be  affected  by  such  a  test. 
I  will  not,  however,  anticipate  the  course  of  law  or  legislature. 
It  is  only  reasonable  to  hope  that  things  will  right  themselves  ; 
that  no  unfair  advantage  will  be  taken  of  the  complications  of 
an  intermediate  stage ;  and  that  the  Colonial  Church  will 
ultimately  find  and  fix  in  her  proper  position. 


275 


—Z)^?.   NEWMAN'S   GRAMMAR    OF  ASSENT.^ 

THOSE  who  open  this  book  with  the  expectation  of  finding 
it  a  controversial  treatise  in  favour  of  the  peculiar  doctrines  of 
Borne,  will  find  themselves  mistaken.  Its  purpose  is  a  much 
larger  one ;  it  vindicates  the  claims  of  Christianity  generally 
upon  human  belief.  But  it  deals  with  the  inner  foundations 
of  belief,  with  those  processes  in  the  mind  which  lead  to  assent, 
and  its  great  object  is  to  free  those  processes  from  the  yoke  of 
formal  and  technical  logic.  All  reasoning,  Dr.  Newman  admits, 
ought  to  be  prepared  to  undergo  the  test  of  verbal  statement,  and 
the  external  ordeal  of  syllogism  and  proposition ;  and  if  it  is 
not  capable  of  being  drawn  out  in  this  form,  when  the  demand 
is  made,  he  gives  it  up  as  unsound  reasoning.  But  he  denies 
that  this  is  the  way  in  which  reasoning  actually  goes  on  in  the 
mind,  even  when  it  is  sound  and  correct.  It  has  short  cuts,  he 
says,  it  puts  things  quick  together,  it  seizes  the  conclusion  in 
the  premiss,  and  combines,  by  a  rapid  survey,  and  by  an  instinc- 
tive estimate,  the  various  points  of  the  case  in  one  nucleus, 
which  the  individual  carries  about  him,  and  which  constitutes 
at  once  his  reasons  and  his  belief.  He  gathers  all  into  a  point, 
instead  of  drawing  it  out  into  divisions  and  compartments ; 
and  the  work  is  done  almost  intuitively. 

"  To  this  conclusion  he  comes,  as  is  plain,  not  by  any  possible 
verbal  enumeration  of  all  the  considerations,  minute  but  abundant, 
delicate  but  effective,  which  unite  to  bring  him  to  it;  but  by  a  mental 
comprehension  of  the  whole  case,  and  a  discernment  of  its  upshot, 
sometimes  after  much  deliberation,  but,  it  may  be,  by  a  clear  and 
rapid  act  of  the  intellect,  always,  however,  by  an  unwritten  sum- 
ming-up, something  like  the  summation  of  the  terms  of  an  algebraical 
series.  .  .  . 

"  Such  a  process  of  reasoning  is  more  or  less  implicit,  and  with- 

1  An  Essay  in  aid  of  a  Grammar  of  Assent.     By  John  H.  Newman,  D.D. 


276  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

out  the  direct  and  full  advertence  of  the  mind  exercising  it.  As  by 
the  use  of  our  eyesight  we  recognise  two  brothers,  yet  without  being 
able  to  express  what  it  is  by  which  we  distinguish  them ;  as  at  first 
sight  we  perhaps  confuse  them  together,  but  on  better  knowledge, 
we  see  no  likeness  between  them  at  all ;  as  it  requires  an  artist's 
eye  to  determine  what  lines  and  shades  make  a  countenance  look 
young  or  old,  amiable,  thoughtful,  angry  or  conceited,  the  principle 
of  discrimination  being  in  each  case  real,  but  implicit ; — so  is  the 
mind  unequal  to  a  complete  analysis  of  the  motives  which  carry  it 
on  to  a  particular  conclusion,  and  is  swayed  and  determined  by  a 
body  of  proof,  which  it  recognises  only  as  a  body,  and  not  in  its 
constituent  parts." 

This  is  the  aim,  then,  with  which  this  treatise  is  penetrated 
— to  bring  out  the  reality  of  reasoning,  as  it  actually  goes  on 
within  us;  its  natural  and  instinctive  and  intuitive  kind  of  action, 
which  contains  all  the  pith  and  truth  of  it,  in  a  more  genuine 
and  powerful  shape,  in  consequence  of  its  very  condensation, 
than  technical  statements  and  argumentative  formulae  do  ;  in 
which  the  pungent  point  of  actual  nature  is  drawn  out,  and 
weakened  by  its  very  extension  and  its  connection  with  outside 
casing,  and  all  the  leathern  apparatus  of  verbal  logic.  The  mode 
in  which  this  appeal  to  Nature  assists  the  Christian  argument  will 
appear  shortly ;  but,  in  the  first  place,  Dr.  Newman  has  to  meet 
and  deal  with  some  curious  problems  which  attach  to  the  found- 
ation of  human  belief,  and  especially  the  question, — What  right 
have  we  to  found  upon  only  probable  evidence  unconditional 
assent  ?  All  assent,  says  the  Pyrrhonist,  must  be  proportioned 
to  the  evidence  ;  and  therefore,  when  there  is  room  for  greater 
proof,  assent  can  only  be  provisional  and  conditional :  uncondi- 
tional assent  is  in  its  very  nature  an  excess — an  advance  beyond 
the  evidence.  A  hasty  faith  is  logically  forbidden,  and  a  sus- 
pense of  judgment  is  imposed.  Dr.  Newman  meets  this  diffi- 
culty with  practical  answers,  but  also  with  a  philosophical  one 
of  remarkable  subtlety  and  ingenuity.  He  separates  "  inference  " 
from  "assent,"  and  throws  all  the  burden  of  obligation  to  pro- 
visional and  conditional  limits  upon  "  inferences,"  liberating 
"assent"  from  it.  While  you  are  reasoning  and  weighing  evidence, 
while  you  are  deducing  from  your  premisses,  you  must  keep 
close  to  your  premisses,  and  what  you  infer  from  them  must 


Newman  s  Grammar  of  Assent.  277 

exactly  reflect  them  in  degree  :  but  when  reasoning  is  over,  the 
assent  which  is  the  consequence  of  it  shakes  off  the  trammels 
of  the  subterranean  process  out  of  which  it  has  emerged,  and 
the  mind  having  got  to  the  top  of  the  edifice  of  reasoning, 
kicks  down  the  ladder  by  which  it  ascended.     This  hardly 
appears  to  us  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  this  difficulty — the 
difficulty  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  we  do  believe  with  practical 
certainty  upon  grounds  which  theoretically  are  only  grounds  of 
probability.     It  is  quite  true  that  when  we  obtain  our  con- 
clusion, we  often  forget  the  process  of  inference  and  argument 
by  which  we  reached  it ;  we  are  lifted  up  by  a  happy  act  of 
oblivion  out  of  the  region  of  comparison  and  estimate ;  still 
our  conclusion  is  based  upon  this  process,  and  must  be  always 
ready  to  obey  the  logical  command  to  recall  it  when  circum- 
stances require.    But  while  we  cannot  agree  with  Dr.  Newman's 
solution  of  this  crux,  perhaps  any  other  definite  rationale  for  it 
would  equally  fail.    The  truth  is,  Nature  takes  this  matter  out 
of  our  hands,  and  upon  every  plain  probability  appearing  to  be 
on  the  side  of  some  conclusion  in  practical  life  or  history,  en- 
ables us  to  proceed  upon  that  conclusion  as  if  it  were  thoroughly 
ascertained.     The  pure  reason — abstract  and  unqualified  reason 
— is  insatiable  and  ever  hungry  for  additions  to  proof ;  even 
when  gorged  with  arguments,  if  it  sees  but  a  hollow  corner  any- 
where, it  clamours  for  a  supplement ;  nay,  and  so  ungrateful  is 
its  appetite,  that  it  will  forget  and  expunge  out  of  its  tablet  all 
past  proof,  in  the  eager  craving  for  the  further  addition,  dis- 
contented with  any  amount  of  actual  evidence,  so  long  as  it  is 
not  all  the  evidence  which  is  conceivable.     The  pure  reason  is 
thus  morbid  reason,  it  weakens  while  it  informs ;  it  paralyses 
action,  and  just  steps  in  after  all  the  premisses  it  has  gathered 
to  prevent  the  person  from  making  any  use  of  them.    It  wants 
the  balance  of  some  other  element  in  our  nature,  which  is  not 
so  much  an  intellectual  principle  as  salutary  impulse.     The 
conditions  of  life  and  the  necessities  of  action  are  such,  that  we 
must  be  content  with  and  accept  as  practical  certainty  a  large 
amount  of  probability ;  and  we  are  enabled  in  some  way,  by 
some  machinery  in  our  nature,  which  is  perhaps  out  of  the 
reach  of  all  analysis,  to  do  this,  and  to  supply  by  our  own  con- 
fidence the  void  in  the  ground  of  pure  reason.     It  should  not 


278  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

be  lost  sight  of  that  there  is,  besides  the  reason,  a  large,  we  will 
not  call  it  irrational  so  much  as  non-rational,  department  in 
the  constitution  of  the  human  being  which  is  essential  to  the 
success  of  the  rational.  We  see  men  who  are  defective  in  this 
supplement  to  the  reason,  and  who  consequently  fail  in  the  use 
of  their  reason.  No  evidence  gives  them  strength  to  act ;  how- 
ever massive  a  body  of  premisses  they  have  collected,  upon  the 
casual  glimpse  of  an  unanswered  objection,  they  drop  in  an 
instant  their  conclusion,  as  if  it  burnt  their  fingers,  and  would 
expose  them  to  total  annihilation  at  the  hand  of  some  master 
of  logic ;  whose  blow  would  in  fact  be  as  light  as  a  feather, 
did  not  his  antagonist  fall  down  flat  on  the  ground  before  he 
gave  it. 

Supposing,  then,  a  certain  amount  of  probable  evidence 
exists  for  the  truth  of  revelation,  we  have  not  got  to  prove  our 
right  to  a  positive  belief  in  revelation.  That  is  given  us  by 
the  constitution  of  our  nature,  and  the  only  question  we 
have  to  decide  is,  whether  there  is  or  not  that  amount  of  pro- 
bable evidence.  Upon  this  question,  then,  Dr.  Newman  first 
observes  the  plain  fact,  that  what  is  evidence  to  one  man  is  not 
evidence  to  another.  How  is  this  ?  It  is,  that  judgment  upon 
facts,  inference  from  facts,  interpretation  of  premisses,  extraction 
of  conclusions,  is  after  all  a  personal  operation.  It  depends 
upon  the  antecedent  assumptions,  the  knowledge,  the  disposi- 
tion of  mind,  and  certain  fundamental  modes  of  looking  on 
things,  which  exist  in  the  mind  of  the  reasoner.  Dr.  Newman 
sums  up  all  this  in  the  personal  and  individual  character  of 
what  he  calls  the  Illative  sense  : — 

'It  is  in  fact  attached  to  definite  subject-matters,  so  that  a 
given  individual  may  possess  it  in  one  department  of  thought,  for 
instance,  history,  and  not  in  another,  for  instance,  philosophy.  .  .  . 

"  Hence  it  is,  that  nothing  I  have  been  saying  about  the 
instrumental  character  or  the  range  of  the  Illative  Sense  inter- 
feres with  its  being,  as  I  have  considered  it,  a  personal  gift  or  habit : 
for,  being  in  fact  ever  embodied  in  some  definite  subject-matter, 
Jt  is  personal,  because  the  discernment  of  the  principles  con- 
nected with  that  subject-matter  is  personal  also.  Certainly,  how- 
ever we  account  for  it,  whether  we  say  that  one  man  is  below  the 
level  of  nature,  or  another  above  it,  so  it  is  that  men,  taken  at 


Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent.  2  79 

random,  differ  widely  from  each  other  in  their  perception  of  the 
first  elements  of  religion,  duty,  philosophy,  the  science  of  life,  and 
taste,  not  to  speak  here  of  the  differences  in  quality  and  vigour  of 
the  Illative  Sense  itself,  comparing  man  with  man.  Every  one,  in 
the  ultimate  resolution  of  his  intellectual  faculties,  stands  by  him- 
self, whatever  he  may  have  in  common  with  others." 

The  Illative  sense,  then,  is  the  same,  as  regards  its  own 
functions,  in  all  cases  ;  but  it  differs  in  its  conclusions  accord- 
ing to  the  special  training  and  previous  experience  of  the 
individual  and  the  subjects  with  which  life  has  made  him  con- 
versant. It  receives  its  direction  from  the  particular  knowledge, 
taste,  and  sentiment  of  the  reasoner.  It  acts  well  in  the 
individual's  special  department  of  art  or  science,  or  in  his 
trade  and  profession,  because  there  he  knows  the  province  of 
his  inferences,  and  starts  from  correct  principles  :  .when  it 
leaves  the  area  of  his  knowledge  it  makes  mistakes.  And 
when  it  acts  correctly  it  often  acts  instinctively  and  intuitively. 
The  chapter  on  "Natural  Inference"  particularly  brings  out 
this  point.  Dr.  Newman  illustrates  this  whole  subject  with 
all  the  fertility  and  vivacity  which  immense  information  aiid 
a  rich  imagination  impart.  He  brings  his  analogies,  instances, 
and  parallel  cases  from  all  quarters  of  the  philosophical,  social, 
and  historical  heavens  ;  the  reader  has  a  perpetual  change,  and 
never  knows  what  fact  may  turn  up  next ;  it  may  be  one  at 
first  sight  the  most  utterly  removed  from  the  field  of  discussion. 
The  detection  of  resemblances  amid  staring  incongruities  is  one 
of  the  most  popular  and  happy  gifts  of  an  author ;  it  produces 
the  effect  of  a  constant  surprise  upon  the  reader,  and  some- 
thing of  that  gratification  which  a  good  puzzle  gives. 

So  far,  however,  Dr.  Newman's  vindication  of  an  instinctive 
and  intuitive  reason,  and  of  a  reasoning  faculty  which  only 
acts  correctly,  or  obtains  sound  and  true  conclusions  in  the 
area  of  the  individual's  special  knowledge,  does  not  come  into 
collision  with  the  position  of  the  religious  sceptic.  The 
philosopher  will  readily  admit  that  reason  does  act  in  this 
instinctive  way  ;  and  he  will  also  admit  that  previous  experi- 
ence and  special  knowledge  must  make  all  the  difference  in  the 
correctness  of  the  conclusions  which  a  person  draws  from  any 
data  which  are  placed  before  him.  What  he  objects  to  is  the 


280  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

application  of  this  general  position  to  the  religious  question. 
He  will  not  allow  to  the  believer  in  revelation  the  right  to  say 
that  he  is  in  possession  of  any  special  knowledge  or  principles 
of  thought  and  feeling,  any  primary  judgments  which  place 
him  at  an  advantage  in  the  estimate  of  Christian  evidence,  and 
convert  that  into  real  evidence  which  is  not  evidence  to  another 
devoid  of  these  primary  ideas  and  principles.  He  will  not 
admit  any  parallel  between  the  knowledge  of  special  depart- 
ments in  the  field  of  life  and  nature,  and  the  strong  hold  of 
certain  deep  principles  and  fundamental  conceptions  which  the 
Christian  brings  with  him  to  the  consideration  of  the  Christian 
evidences. 

That  there  are  then  certain  primary  assumptions  or  beliefs, 
which  do  make  an  immense  difference  in  the  estimate  we  form 
of  the  Christian  evidences — which  create  a  presumption  in 
favour  of  revelation  in  the  minds  of  those  who  have  embraced 
them,  and  which  thereby  facilitate  for  those  minds  the  recep- 
tion of  the  proof  of  revelation — is  a  simple  fact  which  both 
sides  will  admit.  It  signifies  little  by  what  name  we  call  these 
primary  beliefs,  if  we  only  understand  what  they  are ;  but  Dr. 
Newman  calls  them  the  principles  of  Natural  Religion.  These 
primary  beliefs  are  : — 

"  A  belief  and  perception  of  the  Divine  presence,  a  recognition 
of  His  attributes  and  an  admiration  of  His  person  viewed  under 
them,  a  conviction  of  the  worth  of  the  soul  and  of  the  reality  and 
momentousness  of  the  unseen  world,  an  understanding  that,  in  pro- 
portion as  we  partake  in  our  own  persons  of  the  attributes  which 
we  admire  in  Him,  we  are  dear  to  Him,  a  consciousness  on  the  con- 
trary that  we  are  far  from  partaking  them,  a  consequent  insight 
into  our  guilt  and  misery,  an  eager  hope  of  reconciliation  to  Him, 
a  desire  to  know  and  to  love  Him,  and  a  sensitive  looking-out  in 
all  that  happens,  whether  in  the  course  of  nature  or  of  human 
life,  for  tokens,  if  such  there  be,  of  His  bestowing  on  us  what  we 
so  greatly  need.  These  are  specimens  of  the  state  of  mind  for 
which  I  stipulate  in  those  who  would  inquire  into  the  truth  of 
Christianity ;  and  my  warrant  for  so  definite  a  stipulation  lies  in 
the  teaching,  as  I  have  described  it,  of  conscience  and  the  moral 
sense,  in  the  testimony  of  those  religious  rites  which  have  ever- 
prevailed  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  in  the  character  and  conduct 


Newman's  Grammar  of  A  ssent.  2  8 1 

of  those  who  have  commonly  been  selected  by  the  popular  instinct 
as  the  special  favourites  of  Heaven." 

Dr.  Newman  contrasts  this  genuine  and  authentic  with  a 
pseudo-natural  religion  : — 

"  I  do  not  address  myself  to  those,  who  in  moral  evil  and 
physical  evil  see  nothing  more  than  imperfections  of  a  parallel 
nature;  who  consider  that  the  difference  in  gravity  between  the 
two  is  one  of  degree  only,  not  of  kind ;  that  moral  evil  is  merely 
the  offspring  of  physical,  and  that  as  we  remove  the  latter  so  we 
inevitably  remove  the  former;  that  there  is  a  progress  of  the 
human  race  which  tends  to  the  annihilation  of  moral  evil;  that 
knowledge  is  virtue,  and  vice  is  ignorance ;  that  sin  is  a  bugbear, 
not  a  reality ;  that  the  Creator  does  not  punish  except  in  the  sense 
of  correcting  ;  that  vengeance  in  Him  would  of  necessity  be  vindic- 
tiveness;  that  all  that  we  know  of  Him,  be  it  much  or  little, 
is  through  the  laws  of  nature ;  that  miracles  are  impossible ;  that 
prayer  to  Him  is  a  superstition ;  that  the  fear  of  Him  is  unmanly ; 
that  sorrow  for  sin  is  slavish  and  abject;  that  the  only  intelligible 
worship  of  Him  is  to  act  well  our  part  in  the  world,  and  the  only 
sensible  repentance  to  do  better  in  future;  that  if  we  do  our 
duties  in  this  life,  we  may  take  our  chance  for  the  next ;  and  that 
it  is  of  no  use  perplexing  our  minds  about  the  future  state,  for  it  is 
all  a  matter  of  guess.  These  opinions  characterise  a  civilised  age ; 
and  if  I  say  that  I  will  not  argue  about  Christianity  with  men  who 
hold  them,  I  do  so,  not  as  claiming  any  right  to  be  impatient  or  per- 
emptory with  any  one,  but  because  it  is  plainly  absurd  to  attempt 
to  prove  a  second  proposition  to  those  who  do  not  admit  the  first." 

That  these  elementary  convictions  of  the  mind,  then,  do 
make  a  fundamental  difference  in  our  estimate  of  revelation, 
will  hardly  be  denied.  Supposing  them,  for  the  sake  of 
argument,  to  be  true  principles,  so  much  with  respect  to  their 
operation  as  premisses  will  be  conceded.  Let  us  take  the 
single  principle  of  the  moral  sense,  as  it  is  felt  in  those  minds 
to  which  we  have  been  alluding,  which  constitute,  in  fact,  the 
great  mass  of  mankind ;  felt,  namely,  as  conscience,  sense  of 
sin,  an  acknowledgment  of  an  external  Judge :  how  at  once 
does  this  principle  act  in  the  way  of  preparing  the  mind  for  a 
revelation,  favouring  the  need  of  revelation,  justifying  the 
doctrines  of  revelation;  and  so  facilitating  legitimately  the 
acceptance  of  the  evidence  of  revelation.  M.  Comte  has 


282  Newman  s  Grammar  of  Assent. 

indeed  made  us  familiar  with  a  moral  sense,  which  is  a  simple 
materialist  force,  and  a  physical  phenomenon,  coinciding,  like 
heat  or  electricity,  with  the  vanishing  bodily  life ;  presaging 
no  Divine  Judge,  and  aspiring  to  no  upper  world.  Nobody 
can  deny  that  something  within  us,  which  distinguishes 
between  some  actions  and  others :  to  say  all  actions  are 
morally  the  same,  or  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  morality, 
would  be  denying  a  palpable  fact,  like  the  fact  of  thought,  or 
will,  or  sensation.  There  is,  therefore,  a  moral  sense.  How, 
then,  is  it  that  this  moral  sense  admitted,  stops  short,  in  the 
philosophy  of  so  many,  with  being  a  mere  physical  pheno- 
menon, and  an  element  of  sensible  life  ?  The  answer  is,  that 
this  is  a  true  fact  about  the  moral  sense  as  far  as  it  goes  ;  and 
that  men  have  a  power  of  stopping  short,  and  not  going  on 
beyond  the  bare  outside  of  an  idea.  The  ideas  in  our  minds 
have,  if  we  may  borrow  a  representation  from  external  nature, 
their  coatings ;  we  may  go  only  as  far  as  the  coating,  or  we 
may  go  into  them,  and  receive  into  our  minds  the  full  internal 
substance  of  them.  There  runs  throughout  intellectual  nature 
a  use  and  application  of  what  we  may  call  the  shavings  of 
truth,  as  distinguished  from  its  solid  substance.  It  is  this 
principle  or  arrangement  in  nature  which  enables  so  many 
persons  of  the  most  different  grasp  of  mind  to  read  the  same 
book,  and  extract  a  common  meaning  and  a  common  criticism 
from  it.  The  deep  man  and  the  shallow  man  both  understand 
the  same  character,  the  same  event,  the  same  sentiment,  in 
their  respective  degrees ;  and  though  they  come  to  a  point  at 
which  one  cannot  follow  the  other,  they  can  find  a  common 
ground  up  to  that  point.  It  is  this  provision  of  nature  which 
enables  us  to  read  the  same  book  as  children  and  as  grown 
men,  at  neither  time  of  life  wholly  unprofitably,  nor  without 
drawing  a  meaning  from  it.  The  child  reads  Shakespeare  and 
Milton,  and  skims  off  a  sense  from  them.  Many  a  one  looks 
back  with  surprise  now  at  the  genuine  appetite  with  which  -he 
devoured  Scott's  novels  at  twelve  or  thirteen ;  and  with 
a  feeling  of  wonder  and  perplexity  as  to  what  it  was  which  he 
understood  in  them  which  arrested  him  so  potently.  It  is 
quite  impossible  that  he  could  have  really  understood  the 
humour ;  humour,  as  distinguished  from  the  mere  images 


Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent.  283 

which  the  animal  spirits  of  boys  raise,  is  a  discovery  of  later 
years,  and  requires  the  insight  of  experience.  It  is  impossible 
that  he  could  have  understood  really  the  characters ;  and  as  for 
the  allusions  constantly  turning  up,  they  must  have  been  a 
simple  enigma  to  him.  Nevertheless,  he  extracted  a  meaning 
out  of  the  scenery  and  dramatis  personcc  which  engaged  him 
and  absorbed  him.  The  truth  is,  what  he  understood  was  a 
meaning  which  belonged  to  the  book ;  but  it  was  the  coat  of 
the  meaning,  and  not  the  substance  of  it.  It  is  the  same  with 
an  idea. 

The  moral  sense  or  the  moral  idea  contains  in  the  sub- 
stance of  it  conscience,  self-condemnation,  repentance,  the 
appeal  to  an  external  judge ;  but  there  is  an  outer  film  and 
superficies  of  the  idea  which  the  human  mind  peels  off  from 
the  body  of  it,  when  men  give  a  place,  in  rerum  natura,  to  the 
phenomenon,  and  at  the  same  time  ignore  the  substance  : 
when  just  so  much  of  it  as  agrees  with  physical  utility  and 
the  wants  of  the  visible  system  is  allowed,  and  all  the  rest  is 
thrown  aside  as  superstition.  Take  the  moral  idea  as  it  stands 
in  natural  religion.  It  is  a  principle  of  immortality,  it 
indicates  a  spiritual  being,  destined  to  an  existence  beyond  the 
confines  of  this  material  world.  Take  it  as  it  stands  in  M. 
Comte's  philosophy,  and  it  is  a  simple  element  in  a  physical 
system  and  a  vanishing  life.  The  being  who  has  it  came  up  to 
the  surface  yesterday,  and  sinks  into  the  abyssal  void  to-morrow. 
The  philosopher  just  sees  the  idea  in  that  aspect  in  which  it  is 
a  necessity  of  the  social  fabric;  he  just  cuts  off  that  aspect 
from  it ;  he  peels  off  the  mere  simulacrum  of  the  idea,  he  rolls  it 
up  as  in  the  story  of  "  the  Shadowless  Man  "  the  demon  rolled 
up  Peter  Schlemihl's  shadow ;  and  he  presents  it  to  the  world 
as  the  moral  sense.  Such  a  coating  of  the  idea  is  like  the  flat 
surface  of  the  mist,  which  hid  the  gorgeous  tracery  and  pillared 
architecture  of  the  stupendous  cavern.  As  you  approach,  the 
unreality  of  the  veil  appears,  and  the  real  contents  of  the  sub- 
terranean vista  emerge ;  yet,  at  a  distance,  the  surface  of  mere 
vapour  was  the  true  rock,  and  the  interior  was  a  buried  scene. 
M.  Comte,  in  his  moral  sentiment,  presents  to  the  world  a  mere 
superficies,  torn  from  the  solid  block  of  the  idea,  an  outer  film, 
which  ignores  and  hides  all  the  depths  of  the  idea,  all  in  it 


284  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

that  carries  the  mind  beyond  a  perishing  humanity,  all  in  it 
that  spiritualises  and  immortalises. 

"One  man,"  says  Dr.  Newman,  "  deduces  from  his  moral  sense 
the  presence  of  a  Moral  Governor,  and  another  does  not :  in  each 
case  there  may  he  an  exercise,  and  a  sound  exercise,  of  the 
illative  sense ;  but  the  one  recognises  the  principle  of  conscience  in 
his  moral  sense,  and  the  other  does  not  recognise  it, — the  illative 
sense  of  the  one  is  employed  upon  and  informed  by  the  emotions 
of  hope  and  fear  and  the  sense  of  sin,  whereas  the  other  discerns 
the  distinction  of  right  and  wrong  in  no  other  way  than  he  dis- 
tinguishes light  from  darkness,  or  beautifulness  from  deformity. 
That  is  (identifying  the  apprehension  of  the  subject-matter  with  the 
faculty  using  it),  we  might  say  that  the  one  man  had  the  Religious 
Sense,  and  the  other  the  Moral." 

But  although  a  checked  and  stunted  stage  of  the  moral 
sense  can  exist  in  which  it  is  no  introduction  at  all  to  revelation 
— although  an  abortive  form  of  it  can  be  exhibited  in  which  it 
is  consistent  with  Atheism  and  with  no  future  life — although 
there  is  a  moral  sense,  which,  as  Dr.  Newman  says,  "  a  so-called 
civilisation  recognises,  while  it  ignores  the  conscience  " — still 
in  the  way  in  which  the  moral  sense  works  in  that  class  of 
minds  which  accepts  revelation,  the  moral  sense  develops  and 
declares  itself  from  the  first  in  the  direction  of  revelation ;  the 
moral  sense  becomes  an  introduction  to  the  doctrines  of 
revelation.  Take  the  sense  of  sin.  What  an  enormous  differ- 
ence that  makes  in  our  view  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement ! 
It  involves  the  idea  of  sin  as  a  mystery  ;  we  know  sin,  and  yet 
we  do  not  know  it.  What  is  it  ?  The  weight  of  it  is  a  great 
power  within  us ;  it  can  dispirit ;  it  can  crush  and  prostrate  ; 
it  can  cloud  a  life ;  it  can  produce  agony ;  and  lastly,  it  can 
fill  us  beyond  recovery  with  the  idea  that  it  is  all  over  with  us, 
and  can  wind  up  our  mortal  existence  in  despair.  But  what  is 
sin  ?  If  sin  is  a  mystery,  then  we  cannot  be  surprised  that 
the  remedy  to  it  should  be  a  mystery  too.  An  atonement  is  a 
natural  doctrine  of  restoration,  if  we  start  with  the  original 
disease  as  an  enigma.  How  can  we  possibly  tell,  if  some 
incomprehensible  entanglement  and  confusion  has  taken  place, 
what  may  be  wanted  to  set  it  right  again  ?  The  case  is  like 
some  difficult  piece  of  business  in  actual  life,  when  a  raw 


Newman's  Grammar  of  Assent.  285 

inexperienced  mind  summarily  decides  on  some  one  single 
easy  step,  which  is  all  that  is  necessary  to  rectify  the  mistake 
made  :  but  the  man  of  experience  says  "  No  ;  something  more, 
is  wanted  than  that — the  solution  is  more  complex  than  you 
think ;  a  succession  of  steps  will  be  requisite."  So,  in  the  matter 
of  sin,  one  man  says  he  sees  no  difficulty — the  Divine  forgive- 
ness effects  the  cure  in  a  moment.  Another  sees  in  sin  "a 
difficult  business,"  that  may  not  be  capable  of  being  set  right 
by  one  simple  step,  but  may  require  a  complex  means  for  its 
rectification. 

Take  another  effect  of  the  sense  of  sin,  which  is  also 
auxiliary  to  revelation.  It  is  often  said,  in  arguing  against 
materialism,  that  the  sublime  goodness  of  which  man  is 
capable  shows  that  he  is  a  spiritual  being.  Matter  cannot  be 
heroic,  cannot  be  angelic.  But  may  it  not  also  be  said  that 
the  wickedness  of  which  man  is  capable  establishes  the  same 
conclusion  ?  Matter  cannot  be  diabolic.  Put  before  your  mind 
a  bad  man — armed  with  all  the  force  and  the  determination, 
all  the  craft  and  guile,  of  a  corrupt  will,  devoted  inexorably  to 
selfish  ends,  remorselessly  thrusting  aside  all  scruples  which 
threaten  to  interfere  with  them,  designing  and  malicious,  deep 
in  all  the  subtle  intricacy  of  vile  plots  and  artful  strategics,  a 
miracle  of  duplicity  and  dissimulation,  a  miracle  of  plausibility 
and  power  of  self-defence — can  this  man  be  a  lump  of  matter  ? 
No  ;  he  must  be  a  spirit.  None  but  a  spirit  can  be  such  as  he  ; 
wickedness  is  the  property  of  a  spiritual  nature.  Brute  matter 
has,  at  any  rate,  the  involuntary  honesty  of  invincible  stupidity. 
Its  passiveness,  its  inertness,  rescues  it  from  the  peril  of  such 
guilt.  Its  torpor  is  so  far  its  safety.  Although  a  wicked  man 
then  undoubtedly  presents  himself  to  us  in  visible  form  and 
through  a  fleshly  medium,  we  are  assured  that  behind  the  veil  of 
matter  there  thinks,  contrives,  and  acts  a  spirit.  But  such  a 
line  of  thought  as  this  obviously  prepares  us  for,  and  inclines  us 
towards,  the  great  disclosures  of  Scripture  as  regards  the  worlds 
of  departed  spirits  ;  as  well  as  of  good  and  bad  spiritual  beings 
who  have  not  passed  through  this  mortal  state  ;  it  gives  a 
leaning  to  the  understanding  on  the  side  of  those  agencies  not 
of  flesh  and  blood,  against  which  Christianity  in  the  Apostolic 
writings  struggles, — those  "  principalities  and  powers,  the  rulers 


286  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

of  the  darkness  of  this  world,"  the  "spiritual  wickedness  in 
high  places." 

The  sense  of  sin,  again,  must  affect  fundamentally  our 
estimate  of  revelation  ;  because  this  profound  affection  of  the 
mind  must  make  all  the  difference  in  our  idea  of  God  :  and  our 
judgment  on  that  which  professes  to  be  a  communication  from 
God  must  depend  upon  our  idea  of  Him.  There  are  two  ideas 
of  the  Divine  Being  which  spring  respectively  from  two  sets  of 
first  principles — one  of  which  gathers  around  conscience,  the 
other  around  a  physical  centre.  There  is  the  idea  of  Him  as 
a  Moral  Governor  and  Judge,  expressed  in  the  majestic 
language  of  inspiration,  which  proclaims  the  "  High  and  lofty 
One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy;  keeping 
mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving  iniquity  and  transgression 
and  sin,  and  that  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty."  And 
there  is  another  idea  of  Him  as  the  Supreme  Mundane  Being, 
the  Impersonation  of  the  causes  which  are  at  work  in  the 
development  and  completion  of  the  visible  world ;  who  looks 
— we  cannot  say  from  Heaven — with  calm  satisfaction  upon 
the  successful  expansion  of  the  original  seed  which  commenced 
the  formation  of  the  vast  material  organism ; — the  universal 
Spectator  of  the  fabric  of  Nature,  the  growth  of  art  and  the 
progress  of  civilisation.  These  two  ideas  of  the  Deity  must 
make  all  the  difference  in  the  aspect  in  which  a  revelation  pre- 
sents itself  to  us  :  the  former  will  recommend  such  a  revelation 
as  that  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament  to  us ;  the  latter  will 
create  a  whole  foundation  of  thought  in  preliminary  conflict 
with  it. 

Nor  does  the  recommendation  which  the  ideas  and 
sentiments  of  natural  religion  give  to  revelation  stop  with  the 
doctrines ;  it  applies  also  to  the  external  evidences  and  to  the 
testimony  upon  which  revelation  is  presented  to  us.  We 
cannot  arbitrarily  check  the  influence  of  first  principles  ;  they 
have  a  natural  and  legitimate  bearing  upon  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  case  which  they  support,  and  among  the  rest,  upon  our 
estimate  of  the  character  of  the  witnesses  in  the  case. 
Supposing  we  are  in  the  first  instance  deeply  impressed  with 
certain  views  of  conscience  and  sin ;  if  the  witnesses  to  a 


Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent.  287 

revelation  respond  to  these  views,  and  if  it  is  the  scope  of  their 
testimony  to  acquaint  us  with  a  Divine  message  that  meets 
them  ;  this  cannot  be  other  than  a  favourable  mark  of,  and  in 
a  degree  a  guarantee  for,  themselves  personally.  We  agree 
with  their  tone  of  mind,  their  characteristic  mould  of  thought 
and  sentiment,  their  peculiar  moral  inspiration,  and  the  pro- 
found current  of  joy  and  grief,  of  fear  and  hope,  which  runs 
through  the  religious  composition  of  their  minds.  But 
agreeing  with  all  this,  we  cannot  but  repose  the  greater  con- 
fidence in  them  on  account  of  it.  The  nature  of  our  first 
principles  affects  and  bears  upon  the  evidence  as  well  as  the 
doctrines  of  Christianity. 

These  primary  religious  assumptions,  then,  become  a  basis 
upon  which  those  who  accept  the  doctrines  and  evidences  of 
revelation  go  in  the  act  of  accepting  them.  And  to  those  who 
have  embraced  and  adopted  them  this  is  a  philosophical  and 
correct  effect  of  them.  They  act  philosophically,  they  fulfil 
philosophical  conditions  of  thought,  when  they  use  them  in 
this  way,  when  they  give  them  this  recommendatory  and  pre- 
paratory force.  We  must  judge  of  revelation  according  to 
certain  antecedent  premisses  which  exist  in  our  minds,  according 
to  certain  primary  notions  and  impressions  existing  in  us.  If 
these  are  wrong  ones,  we  are  in  collision  with  philosophy  in 
adopting  them ;  but  having  adopted  them,  it  is  quite 
philosophical  in  us  to  argue  and  judge  from  them  as  a  starting 
point — an  afyoppr),  and  intellectual  base.  We  cannot  do  other- 
wise. But  now  the  further  great  question  arises — What  is  the 
character  of  these  first  principles,  and  what  is  the  justice  of 
their  pretension  to  compose  a  commencement  and  a  base  of 
reasoning  ?  Do  they  constitute  a  legitimate  and  philosophical 
ground  for  the  mind  to  go  upon,  or  are  they  a  foundation  of 
mere  blind  superstition,  delusion,  and  fancy  ?  It  will  be  said 
the  assumptions  and  first  principles  which  obtain  credit  in 
special  departments  of  knowledge,  and  which  direct  the 
illative  sense  in  those  departments,  are  principles  which  sooner 
or  later  approve  themselves  to  the  whole  of  mankind ;  they  are 
principles  which  are  the  result  of  observation  and  induction  ; 
they  stand  public  investigation,  and  although  they  may  not  at 


288  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

the  present  gain  universal  reception,  they  only  wait  the  sure 
effect  of  time,  which  will  establish  them  satisfactorily  arid 
invincibly.  Such  principles  and  assumptions  as  these,  it  will 
be  said,  are  a  philosophical  foundation  to  go  upon,  but  this 
cannot  be  said  of  the  untested  and  obscure  impressions  of  the 
religious  imagination,  pretending  to  divine  what  it  cannot 
apprehend,  and  guessing  where  it  cannot  observe, — that 
collection  of  dim  notions  which  you  call  natural  religion. 

Here,  then,  the  individual  and  personal  character  of  true 
reasoning  which  Dr.  Newman  has  laid  down,  comes  in  with 
remarkable  force  and  point,  to  sustain  those  original  premisses 
in  the  human  heart  upon  which  the  reception  of  the  proof  of 
revelation  is  based.  He  says  at  once,  the  truth,  the  force,  the 
weight,  the  authority  of  these  premisses  is  a  personal  matter. 
I  have  these  intuitive  convictions ;  others  have  them.  The 
strength  with  which  these  primary  ideas  are  held,  the  degree 
in  which  they  penetrate  the  man,  possess  him,  inspire  him ; 
the  assurance  which  they  beget,  the  sense  of  their  reality,  the 
conviction  that  they  cannot  be  spurious  ideas,  but  represent 
the  truth  of  things — all  this  is  what  makes  the  very  essence  of 
their  place  as  a  premiss;  and  at  the  same  time  all  this  is 
strictly  personal.  Formal  statements  can  enumerate  and 
denote,  for  the  purpose  of  discussion,  the  ideas  of  natural 
religion ;  they  cannot  possibly  express  the  depth  and  intensity 
with  which  they  are  entertained  by  the  individual,  or  the 
peculiar  significance  which  they  possess  in  his  mind;  and 
their  whole  weight  as  a  basis  depends  upon  these  circum- 
stances. "  Every  one,"  says  Dr.  Newman,  "  who  thinks  on 
these  subjects  takes  a  course  of  his  own  :  every  one  must  use 
the  medium  of  his  own  primary  mental  impressions ;  I  offer 
my  own  witness  in  the  matter  in  question ;  though,  of  course, 
it  would  not  be  worth  while  my  offering  it,  unless  what  I  felt 
myself  agreed  with  what  is  felt  by  hundreds  and  thousands 
besides  me."  "  Conscience  is  a  personal  guide,  and  I  use  it, 
because  I  must  use  myself ;  I  am  as  little  able  to  think  by 
any  mind  but  my  own,  as  to  breathe  with  another's  lungs. 
Conscience  is  nearer  to  me  than  any  other  means  of  knowledge. 
And  as  it  is  given  to  me,  so  also  it  is  given  to  others :  and 


Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent.  289 

being  carried  about  by  every  individual  in  his  own  breast,  and 
requiring  nothing  besides  itself,  it  is  adapted  for  the  communi- 
cation to  each  separately  of  that  knowledge  which  is  most 
momentous  to  him  individually.  ...  I  may  say  all  this  with- 
out entering  into  the  question  how  far  external  assistances  are 
in  all  cases  necessary  to  the  action  of  the  mind,  because  in  fact 
a  man  does  not  live  in  isolation,  but  is  everywhere  found  as  a 
member  of  society.  I  am  not  concerned  with  abstract 
questions." 

Dr.  Newman's  appeal,  then,  to  the  individual  and  personal 
character  of  all  genuine  reasoning  is  attended  by  this  advan- 
tage to  the  Christian  argument,  that  the  fundamental  pre- 
misses of  that  argument  are  seen  by  means  of  this  appeal  in 
all  the  cogency  and  force  which  they  possess  as  strong  indi- 
vidual convictions,  as  distinguished  from  their  comparatively 
tame  pretensions  when  they  are  laid  down  as  propositions  and 
statements.  You  are  carried  into  a  living  world  of  belief. 
When  truths  are  put  forward  as  statements  only,  we  look  on 
them  apart  from  their  vital  seat  in  the  individual ;  they  are 
suspended  in  the  air,  and  seem  to  supplicate  a  proof  and  a 
basis;  that  is  therefore  a  weak  aspect  of  them.  But  turn  to 
them  as  they  exist  in  the  individual,  and  the  individual  is  a 
basis.  He  can  say,  "  I  find  these  particular  original  convic- 
tions in  me,  that  is,  I  find  a  belief  in  me ;  it  is,  therefore,  too 
late  to  ask  me  to  account  for  my  belief ;  there  it  is,  I  have  it,  I 
cannot  help  myself,  it  is  a  fact  of  my  own  mind,  it  is  part  of 
myself ;  if  I  believe  I  believe.  It  is  true  I  cannot  prove  them 
to  others,  but  that  does  not  prevent  their  self- witness  to  me  ; 
if  I  cannot  help  a  certain  belief,  that  is  the  fullest  justification 
of  myself  that  there  can  possibly  be."  When  truths  are  put 
forward  as  propositions,  they  suggest  our  going  further,  getting 
behind  them,  or  underneath  them ;  they  challenge  inquiry,  and 
in  the  anticipation  of  this  inquiry  they  lack  the  confidence  of 
a  strong  position.  But  as  felt  in  the  individual,  they  are  a 
belief  to  begin  with ;  the  step  is  taken,  their  position  is  as 
strong  as  it  can  be  made  by  a  decision  for  them  at  their  very 
starting.  Nobody  can  say  a  word  against  a  man  for  being 
convinced  of  his  own  convictions. 


290  Newman  s  Grammar  of  Assent. 

The  primary  ideas  and  sentiments,  then,  which  constitute 
natural  religion,  are  a  legitimate  basis  for  the  mind  to  proceed 
upon  in  its  estimate  of  the  proof  of  revelation  ;  they  correspond 
to  the  principles  in  special  departments  of  knowledge,  which 
enable  those  who  are  acquainted  with  those  departments  to 
judge  of  evidence  on  matters  belonging  to  them;  only  with 
this  difference,  that  the  principles  of  science  ultimately  compel 
universal  reception,  the  moral  set  of  principles  does  not.  But 
this  distinction  does  not  interfere  with  the  right  of  assertion, 
as  regards  those  principles,  on  the  part  of  those  who  have 
them  ;  they  have  a  right  to  assert  as  truth  what  is  irresistibly 
true  to  themselves  and  which  others  cannot  disprove.  Those 
who  find  these  original  convictions  in  them  have  a  right  to 
appeal  to  them  as  their  starting-points  and  their  reasoning 
base.  They  cannot  of  course  appeal  to  their  own  original  belief 
as  binding  others,  but  they  can  appeal  to  it  as  the  full  justifica- 
tion of  themselves,  and  of  that  favourable  attitude  toward  reve- 
lation which  may  be  drawn  from  it.  Such  a  primary  belief  is, 
therefore,  a  strictly  philosophical  premiss,  for  the  purpose  for 
which  it  is  used.  Were  it  used  indeed  for  the  purpose  of 
proving  revelation  to  those  in  whom  the  belief  does  not  exist, 
no  premiss  could  be  more  unphilosophical :  but  it  is  not  used 
for  this  purpose ;  it  is  only  used  for  the  purpose  of  recom- 
mending revelation  to  ourselves,  and  to  others  who  have  the 
same  primary  belief  with  ourselves,  and  for  this  purpose  it  is 
a  philosophical  premiss. 

Take,  for  example,  the  instance  which  we  used  lately — the 
sense  of  sin.  This  is  a  knowledge  which  those  who  possess 
it  start  with  as  an  advantage  in  the  estimate  of  the  Christian 
revelation,  that  is,  they  have  the  right  to  say  that  they  do. 
It  is  not  knowledge  in  a  scientific  sense,  but  it  is  knowledge 
in  such  a  sense  as  that  those  who  have  it  are  instinctively  as- 
sured that  they  are  in  possession  of  some  truth,  and  are  influ- 
enced by  it  in  their  judgment  of  revelation  and  its  proof.  It 
is  knowledge  so  far  as  it  is  a  kind  of  insight,  partial,  but  real 
as  far  as  it  goes,  into  the  nature  of  something  in  which  we 
are  fundamentally  concerned,  and  on  which  God's  dealings  with 
us  in  revelation  profess  to  hinge.  It  corresponds,  in  its  place 


Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent.  291 

and  results,  to  a  principle  of  knowledge  in  some  special  depart- 
ment. It  is  impossible  not  to  see  what  a  strong  root  of 
Christian  conviction  and  belief,  what  an  introduction  to  the 
Christian  dispensation,  this  sense  of  sin  in  the  mind  of  St. 
Paul  was.  St.  Paul  filled  two  remarkable  places ;  he  was  at 
once  the  first  philosophical  teacher  of  Christianity,  and  the 
first  great  convert  of  promulgated  Christianity.  What  is  the 
most  conspicuous  premiss,  then,  which  we  observe  working  in 
his  mind,  to  beget  his  belief  in  the  Christian  dispensation,  and 
assure  him  of  its  being  a  real  authentic  revelation  from  God  ? 
We  see  it  in  the  Epistles  which  succeeded  his  conversion.  It 
is  the  sense  of  sin.  The  apprehension  of  the  tremendous, 
mysterious  fact  of  sin  pervades  all  his  Epistles,  as  the  great 
preliminary  to  the  acceptance  of  the  Gospel.  It  was  an  assur- 
ance in  his  mind,  which  was  of  the  nature  of  a  profound 
knowledge,  answering  to  the  accurate  acquaintance  with  some 
truth  in  some  special  department.  Could  any  human  being 
have  persuaded  St.  Paul  that  he  knew  no  more  about  sin  than 
Gallio  or  Herod,  and  that  he  and  the  Sadducee  Ananias  stood 
exactly  on  the  same  level  upon  this  article  of  knowledge  ?  He 
felt  he  had  a  knowledge  of  this  subject  which  other  people  had 
not.  This  formed  the  basis  of  the  Christianity  which  he 
preached  and  propagated ;  and  if  he  persuaded  himself  by  the 
same  arguments  by  which  he  persuaded  others,  it  was  the 
basis  of  his  own  conversion  to  Christianity. 

These  moral  and  religious  starting-points  present  them- 
selves indeed  to  us  in  the  first  instance  as  belonging  rather  to 
the  department  of  the  affections  than  of  knowledge ;  and  we 
are  asked — What  have  the  affections  to  do  with  deciding  a 
question  of  reason,  such  as  that  of  the  evidence  of  revelation? 
We  are  not  concerned  with  the  affections  here,  it  is  said,  but 
with  the  understanding  only.  It  is  the  understanding  alone 
which  judges  about  truth  ;  and  to  introduce  the  affections  into 
the  inquiry  is  to  mislead  the  judgment,  and  to  carry  it  away 
from  evidence  to  enlist  it  unlawfully  on  the  side  of  mere 
wishes,  fears,  and  hopes.  But  the  truth  is,  that  in  moral 
subjects  we  cannot  separate  the  understanding  from  the  affec- 
tions. The  affections  themselves  are  a  kind  of  understanding ; 


2  92  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

we  cannot  understand  without  them.  Affection  is  a  part  of 
insight,  it  is  wanted  for  a  due  acquaintance  with  the  facts  of 
the  case.  The  moral  affections,  for  instance,  are  the  very 
instruments  by  which  we  intellectually  apprehend  good  and 
high  human  character.  All  admiration  is  affection — the  admira- 
tion of  virtue  ;  the  admiration  of  outward  nature.  Affection 
itself,  then,  is  a  kind  of  intelligence.  Feeling  is  necessary 
for  comprehension,  and  we  cannot  know  what  a  particular 
instance  of  goodness  is,  we  cannot  embrace  the  true  conception 
of  goodness  in  general,  without  it.  These  primary  convictions 
of  which  we  are  here  speaking,  then,  are  not  prevented  by 
being  affections  from  being  knowledge — knowledge  in  the 
sense  of  a  certain  kind  of  insight, — which  those  who  have  it 
are  justified  in  acting  upon  as  knowledge,  in  regarding  as 
authoritative  and  qualified  to  command  their  acts. 

Dr.  Newman's  appeal  to  the  personal  and  individual 
character  of  true  reasoning  thus  combines  the  strength  of  an 
enthusiastic  ground,  on  the  side  of  revelation,  without  its 
weakness.  It  is  a  common  remark  that  the  enthusiast  is  logi- 
cal upon  his  premisses.  Grant  him  the  intensity  of  his  own 
primary  convictions — the  truth  of  his  own  starting-points— 
and  you  cannot  confute  his  conclusions  from  them ;  but  his 
position  has  the  great  defect,  that  his  primary  convictions — his 
starting-points — are  his  own  and  nobody  else's;  they  are 
singular  and  eccentric :  he  cannot  appeal  to  any  witness  in 
human  nature,  to  any  either  whole  or  partial  consensus ;  he  is 
an  isolated  man,  and  there  is  no  body  of  sentiment  and  belief 
in  the  world  which  he  can  claim  as  concurring  with  him.  His 
premisses,  therefore,  are  fantastic,  and  with  them  his  conclu- 
sions. But  the  appeal  to  the  individual  in  the  matter  of  the 
primary  truths  of  natural  religion  gains  one  of  these  results, 
without  incurring  the  other.  It  gains  the  strength  of  the 
enthusiast's  ground,  because  the  enthusiast's  strength  lies  not 
in  his  being  eccentric,  but  in  his  being  internal :  if  he  is 
internal,  an  ordinary  believer  is  as  strong  in  his  belief  as  an 
enthusiast.  And  it  avoids  its  weakness,  because  the  indivi- 
dual is  in  concurrence  and  agreement  with  a  whole  world  of 
other  individuals  who  think  with  him.  In  the  fundamental 


Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent.  293 

ideas  of  natural  religion  there  is  something  approaching  to  a 
consensus,  and  his  own  personal  conviction  finds  an  echo  in 
the  voice  of  human  nature.  His  principles,  then,  have  all  the 
strength  of  the  enthusiast's,  while  they  are  the  premisses,  at 
the  same  time,  of  the  great  body  of  mankind.  The  individual's 
strong  sense  of  them  justifies  their  influence,  while  such 
general  concurrence  in  them  is  a  guarantee  against  their 
fanaticism. 

The  logical  posture,  then,  of  the  Christian  and  infidel 
toward  each  other,  is,  according  to  Dr.  Newman,  this  :  One  of 
the  parties  taking  certain  fundamental  perceptions — or  what 
appear  to  him  to  be  such — which  form  the  substance  of  natural 
religion,  as  his  starting-points,  and  judging  from  them  as  a 
reasoning  base,  accepts  from  that  base  of  judgment  the  evi- 
dences of  Christianity.  Can  the  other  refute  his  inference  ? 
He  cannot,  for  he  does  not  know  his  base.  He  knows  the 
truths  of  natural  religion  in  the  form  of  propositions ;  he  can- 
not possibly  know  them  as  they  exist  in  the  individual's 
mind.  He  cannot  know  then  how  much  legitimate  force  they 
exert  in  the  estimate  of  the  evidences  of  revelation.  Can  he 
then  disprove  the  principles  themselves  ?  He  cannot,  for  they 
are  not  in  opposition  to  any  known  truth  ;  while  the  immense 
concurrence  in  them,  and  the  homage  of  the  great  mass  of 
mankind  to  them,  protects  them  from  the  charge  of  fanaticism. 
The  inward  premisses,  then,  and  the  conclusion,  are  alike  out 
of  reach  of  refutation,  and  safe  from  the  disputant's  assault. 

In  this  state  of  the  case  the  Grammar  of  Assent  may  be 
usefully  studied  by  those  who  direct  the  sceptical  press  in  this 
country.  They  will  not  be  converted  to  the  belief  of  Chris- 
tianity by  it,  but  they  will  perhaps  be  able  to  understand  that 
Christianity  has  something  more  to  say  for  itself  than  they 
suppose.  They  assume  a  tone  of  very  comfortable  certainty, 
that  the  evidences  of  Christianity  have  been  tried  and  found 
wanting.  These  gentlemen  recommend  a  philosophical  sus- 
pense of  judgment,  and  declaim  against  positive  conviction ; 
but  their  own  minds  are  entirely  made  up.  The  age  of 
Pyrrhonism  is  past ;  men  could  be  Pyrrhonists  in  the  groves  of 
Academia ;  but  in  the  roar  and  conflict  of  the  hodiernal  arena 


294  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

of  opinion  they  find  that  the  voice  of  doubt  is  not  heard,  and 
that  decision  is  in  request.  They  bow,  and  apparently  without 
any  great  reluctance,  to  the  public  need.  They  assume  the 
falsehood  of  Christianity,  that  reason  rejects  its  doctrines,  and 
experience  its  evidences.  The  dogmatic  infidel  suggests  sus- 
pense of  judgment  to  the  Christian  believer,  but  as  for  himself 
he  is  far  in  advance  of  the  beggarly  elements  of  doubt  and 
inquiry,  and  with  downright  assertion  as  his  own  weapon,  he 
gags  his  antagonist  with  Pyrrhonism.  This  is  the  philosophy 
of  the  sceptical  press.  We  do  not  know  whether  it  is  intended 
to  be  looked  upon  as  literary  pleasantry ;  but  the  conductors 
of  it  must  have  a  very  low  idea  of  the  intellect  of  their 
opponents  if  they  think  that  it  can  be  contemplated  as  serious 
controversy.  For  how  stands  the  matter  ? 

There  is  a  certain  set  of  fundamental  ideas  which,  when 
embraced  with  a  depth  and  reality  of  conviction,  practically 
leads  to  the  acceptance  of  Christianity  and  its  evidences. 
They  have  done  so  with  an  almost  unbroken  uniformity; 
they  do  now ;  and  consequently  we  have  every  reason  to 
expect  that  they  always  will  do.  The  connection,  then,  of 
these  ideas  with  the  acceptance  of  Christianity  cannot  be 
set  aside  as  the  result  of  fancy  or  chance ;  the  foundation 
supposed,  the  edifice  stands  legitimately  upon  it.  But  these 
writers  look  upon  the  evidence  of  Christianity  as  it  presents 
itself  to  themselves  without  this  preliminary  foundation,  and 
by  it  judge  the  evidence  as  it  presents  itself  to  others 
with  it.  They  apply  their  estimate  of  a  structure  of  belief, 
which  has  not  a  basis  of  introductory  truths,  to  a  structure 
of  belief  which  has  one.  They  forget  that  they  are  not  in 
the  same  position,  and  do  not  stand  on  the  same  ground,  as 
judges  of  evidence,  with  their  opponents.  Biit  if  they  ever 
do  remember  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  ground  of  natural 
religion,  if  they  ever  do  bring  themselves  to  recognise  the 
existence  of  a  certain  class  of  primary  ideas  and  instinctive 
impressions  which  exist  in  the  human  mind,  the  mode  in 
which  they  treat  the  fact  when  they  take  cognisance  of  it,  is 
worse  than  their  blindness  when  they  forgot  it.  They  treat 
these  rooted  convictions  as  if  they  were  only  plastered  upon  the 


Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent.  295 

surface  of  man,  and  could  be  taken  off.  These  ideas  must  be 
simply  erased,  effaced,  and  expunged  from  the  tablet  of  the 
human  mind.  But  what  process  has  been  invented  for  erasing 
and  expunging  what  is  de  facto  part  of  human  nature  ?  And 
what  ground  is  there  for  the  assumption  which  is  constantly 
made  that  the  progress  of  science  and  civilisation  will  destroy 
these  fundamental  sentiments  and  convictions  ?  Let  us  take 
first  practical  civilisation.  By  this  we  mean  the  multiplication 
of  the  resources  of  society,  facilities  for  doing  things,  means 
of  communication,  comforts,  accommodations,  conveniences. 
They  assume  a  hostile  logic  in  these  facts  to  that  original  creed 
of  the  human  heart.  Yet  it  is  difficult  to  see  why  a  man's 
expectation  of  a  future  judgment  should  be  altered,  because  he 
can  get  to  Australia  in  two  months,  whereas  some  years  ago 
he  could  only  reach  it  in  eight.  A  belief  in  heaven  and  hell 
cannot  at  all  depend  on  the  success  or  backwardness  of  steam 
navigation.  It  is  as  little  easy  to  see  why  the  same  belief 
should  be  affected  by  postal  communication,  the  submarine 
telegraph,  the  tubular  bridge,  the  discovery  of  a  new  propul- 
sive power,  the  purification  of  gas,  draining,  the  steam-plough, 
and  sanitary  improvements.  If  there  is  any  argument  against 
that  primary  creed  in  these  facts,  the  human  mind  is  so 
incorrigibly  illogical  that  one  man  was  an  atheist  under  the 
reign  of  packhorses,  and  another  man  is  a  believer  in  the  era 
of  goods  trains.  It  is  as  difficult  to  see  what  is  the  logic  in 
physical  science  which  is  in  antagonism  to  natural  religion,  or 
to  revealed  either.  The  truths  of  these  respective  departments 
are  the  truths  of  two  different  spheres,  which  cannot  come 
into  contact  with  each  other.  If  men  feel  a  conscience  within 
them,  if  they  acknowledge  its  presages,  and  respect  its  voice 
as  judicial ;  they  must  do  so  all  the  same  under  the  Ptolemaic 
and  Copernican  theories  of  the  Solar  System.  If  they  derive 
from  conscience  the  sense  of  sin,  they  must  derive  it  whether 
light  is  explained  upon  the  theory  of  emission,  or  the  theory  of 
undulation.  There  are  difficulties  in  a  Personal  Deity,  and 
there  are  difficulties  in  a  personal  immortality :  there  are 
difficulties  attaching  to  prayer,  and  there  a,re  difficulties  attach- 
ing to  special  providences ;  but  those  difficulties  are  exactly 


296  Newman  s  Grammar  of  Assent. 

the  same,  whether  the  cellular  theory  is  true  or  false,  and 
whether  the  sun  is  fed  by  the  mechanical  collision  of  aster- 
oids, or  by  the  continuous  condensation  of  its  own  matter. 
Freewill  is  not  contradicted  by  the  Uniformitarian  in  geology, 
and  Predestination  is  not  contradicted  by  the  Revolutionist  in 
geology.  Scientific  analysis  cannot  possibly  discover  any 
fresh  objection  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  the  doctrine  of 
the  Atonement,  the  doctrine  of  Grace,  or  the  doctrine  of  the 
Sacraments.  If  the  Zwinglian  doctrine  of  the  Sacraments  is 
our  conclusion, — it  is  our  conclusion  whether  there  is  a  space- 
filling ether,  or  whether  there  is  a  total  vacuum  in  space  ;  if  the 
Anglican  theory  is  our  decision,  it  is  our  decision  whether  we 
accept  or  not  the  convertibility  of  heat  into  motion,  and  motion 
into  heat ;  and  if  Transubstantiation  is  true,  it  is  true  whatever 
hypothesis  we  maintain  as  to  the  ultimate  indivisibility  and 
weight  of  atoms. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  science  appears  to  threaten  the  very 
foundation  of  a  spiritual  existence,  and  some  theory  pushes 
forward  into  the  first  ranks  which  seems  to  convert  our  very 
personality  into  a  development  and  form  of  matter.  Men 
tremble  at  the  approach  of  the  giant  who  comes,  with  uplifted 
arm,  to  aim  his  blow  ;  but  if  they  only  stand  their  ground  the 
spell  is  broken,  the  descending  stroke  falls  harmless  upon  us, 
and  the  spectre  vanishes.  We  shake  ourselves,  and  feel  whole 
and  untouched.  All  that  is  required  for  successful  resistance 
in  these  encounters  is  distinctly  to  see  that  A  is  not  B.  The 
theory  of  the  correlation  of  vital,  physical,  and  chemical  forces, 
while  it  reduces  some  life  to  the  same  head  with  material  pro- 
perties, does  not  touch  the  spiritual  being  or  self ;  consciousness 
witnesses  to  that  ego  as  distinct  from  the  mere  living  bodily 
organism.  The  theory,  again,  that  a  living  organism  can 
develop  itself  from  inorganic  matter  deals  with  the  origination 
of  one  fact,  while  that  which  we  are  conscious  of  is  another 
fact.  Thus  material  science,  even  granting  its  pretensions, 
only  advances  as  far  as  some  facts  which  come  under  the  head 
of  life  ;  it  then  stops  upon  the  outer  brink,  and  can  only  look 
from  thence  upon  an  unsolved  personal  being. 

No  reason,  then,  can  be  given  why  the  progress  of  civilisa- 


Newman's  Grammar  of  Assent.  297 

tion  or  science  should  expunge  from  the  human  mind  the  ideas 
of  conscience,  sin,  repentance,  judgment,  which,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  lead  to  the  Christian  belief,  and  feed  the  Christian  Church. 
But  when  reasoning  ceases,  prophecy  begins.  There  are  no  more 
persistent  and  determined  prophesiers  in  the  world  than  infidels ; 
they  make  sure  of  the  future.  Mankind  do  not  at  present  think 
with  them,  but  they  will  do.  The  day  is  coming  ;  the  edifice 
of  superstition  will  fall ;  principles  long  rooted  in  man  will 
disappear  ;  it  will  be  seen  that  their  lurid  and  misty  light  is  a 
deception ;  the  human  mind  will  be  rescued  from  the  thraldom 
of  them.  This  will  be  the  issue  of  civilisation ;  this  will  be 
the  history  of  mankind.  Thus  when  logic  fails,  they  foresee  ; 
and  when  science  refuses  to  contradict  religion,  they  discern 
the  rupture  in  a  vision.  We  have  two  great  prophets  among 
us  who  prophesy  resolutely  and  prophesy  perpetually, —  the 
Infidels  and  Millennarians. 

We  could  wish,  however,  that  Dr.  Newman  had  treated  the 
exceptional  case  of  those  who,  while  they  would  profess  a  code 
of  natural  religion  approaching  to  his  own,  still  do  not  proceed 
thence  to  the  acceptance  of  the  Christian  evidences.  There 
are  those  who  believe  in  morals  and  in  religious  morals,  but 
shrink  from  miracles  or  doctrines.  There  are  those  even  who 
accept  Eoman  morals,  who  admire  the  ascetic  type,  who  em- 
brace counsels  of  perfection,  who  still  decline  to  believe  either 
in  the  Gospels  or  the  Epistles.  The  Gospels  deter  them  by 
their  outward  miracles,  and  the  Epistles  by  their  inward — 
by  forgiveness,  justification,  and  salvation,  through  the  blood 
of  an  Atoning  Sacrifice.  The  acceptance,  indeed,  of  an  ascetic 
standard  of  morals  by  persons  is  quite  compatible  with 
cowardice  and  weakness  in  the  acceptance  also  of  the  yoke 
of  physical  impression ; — is  compatible  with  a  dogmatic  ima- 
gination binding  their  sense  of  possibility  to  the  routine  of 
material  laws,  and  disabling  them  from  believing  miracles 
in  Nature  or  mysteries  in  truth.  The  more  we  know  of  prac- 
tical human  nature,  the  more  we  become  alive  to  its  piecemeal 
composition,  and  to  the  mistake  of  taking  men  as  consistent 
wholes.  They  are  often  collections  of  fragments,  reflecting 
a  past  succession  of  different  and  discordant  influences,  like 


298  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

geological  compounds,  which  represent  the  action  of  past  dis- 
turbing forces. 

We  could  wish,  again,  that  Dr.  Newman  had  treated  the 
case  of  some  who  even  admire  the  distinctive  mysteries  of 
Christianity,  but  who  have  not  come  to  an  understanding  with 
themselves  whether  those  mysteries  are  sublime  truths  or 
sublime  fictions.  They  are  captivated  by  devotion,  and  by 
devotion  founded  on  certain  ideas  and  upon  the  existence  of  a 
certain  supernatural  world  ;  but  whether  the  truths  exist  or  the 
world  exists  anywhere  else  than  in  the  worshipper's  own  mind 
they  are  not  prepared  to  say.  They  will  follow,  with  even  the 
enthusiasm  of  partisans,  the  devotional  assertions  of  a  high 
religious  rite,  while  they  do  not,  at  the  same  time,  think  it 
particularly  signifies  whether  these  assertions  are  true  or  not : 
their  intellect  inclines  to  the  latter  alternative.  The  doctrine 
of  the  Atonement  is  true  to  them  in  a  ritual,  and  false  as  a 
statement  in  Scripture  or  in  a  Creed.  The  appeal  to  the  "  Lamb 
of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world  "  is  quite  correct 
in  a  litany ;  biit  when  they  meet  with  the  same  truth  in  a 
theological  book,  they  turn  away  from  an  assertion  with  which 
their  intellect  is  not  in  harmony.  Our  own  Eucharistic  service 
and  the  Eoman  Mass  alike  are  founded  upon  the  doctrine  of  an 
Atoning  Sacrifice  :  that  doctrine  is  the  very  fibre  of  them,  and 
they  are  utterly  hollow  and  mere  unmeaning  structures  of 
words  without  it ;  yet  one  of  these  minds  will  respond  to  the 
service  and  reject  the  doctrine.  Why  so  ?  The  dignity  of 
language  is  its  truth  ;  and  if  an  idea  is  false  it  ought  not  to  be 
in  a  ritual — if  it  is  true,  it  ought  to  be  accepted  as  a  statement. 
Why  should  ritual  enjoy  the  very  unenviable  privilege  of  false 
assertion  ?  And  why  should  the  language  of  prayer  and 
supplication  be  esteemed  noble  and  sublime  if  it  issues  out  of 
the  worshipper's  mouth  directed  to  a  personage  who  does  not 
exist,  on  account  of  an  office  which  does  not  exist  ?  The  fact 
is,  however,  that  ritual  is  regarded  by  this  class  of  minds  only 
as  the  expression  of  subjective  religious  truth.  It  relieves  the 
worshipper's  mind  by  the  vocal  and  symbolic  utterance  of 
certain  religious  conceptions,  profoundly  poetical,  and  stimu- 
lative of  deep  emotion;  and  the  whole  adoration  of  the 


Newman's  Grammar  of  Assent.  299 

congregation  goes  out  toward  a  mysterious  personage,  who  has 
done  a  mysterious  work  for  them ;  but  whether  there  are  in 
the  invisible  world  any  realities  which  correspond  to  these 
ideas,  whether  there  is  any  such  personage  or  any  such 
work,  whether  there  is  any  objective  truth  which  answers  to 
this  subjective  is  another  question,  which  they  prefer  not 
having  to  deal  with.  A  statement  in  Scripture,  a  Creed,  or  an 
Article,  puts  this  question  before  them,  and  therefore  they  dis- 
like a  statement  in  Scripture,  a  Creed,  or  an  Article.  A  Creed 
asserts  an  objective  truth,  a  ritual  to  them  asserts  a  subjective 
one ;  and  subjective  truth  is  interesting  to  them  as  reveal- 
ing the  fertility  and  wealth  of  the  human  mind,  its  poetry  and 
its  fancy ;  objective  truth  is  a  dull  dry  formula.  Even  a 
Kesurrection  and  Eternity  are  dull  and  insipid  to  these  minds 
as  Articles  in  a  Creed  :  if  they  are  ideas  enriching  a  ritual,  they 
welcome  them ;  if  they  are  really  to  be  believed,  they  give 
them  but  a  freezing  reception.  Yet  it  was  in  this  very 
character,  as  the  vehicle  of  objective  truth,  that  the  formulary 
of  faith  appealed  of  old  to  Christian  poetry  and  imagination. 
It  was  not  treated  like  a  dry  skeleton  and  framework  of  words, 
but  the  statement  was  glorious  and  elevating  because  a  positive 
statement ;  it  asserted  the  objective  reality  of  the  thing  stated  ; 
it  gave  an  opening  into  another  world,  and  an  absolutely  real 
world.  Contemplate  the  grave,  precise,  and  formal  statements 
of  a  Christian  Church  in  this  aspect,  and  they  lighten  up  with 
beams  from  the  very  fountain  of  light.  They  represent  the 
faith  of  generations  of  Christians  in  the  ineffable  condescension 
of  God  and  the  highest  destiny  of  man.  They  announce  by 
their  very  rigidity  the  external  seat  of  truth  ;  that  truth  is  a 
fact  which  exists  independently  of  us,  our  own  belief,  or  our 
own  imagination. 

We  do  not  profess  to  have  given  our  readers  more  than  a 
slice  of  Dr.  Newman's  elaborate  and  acute  investigation  into 
the  processes  of  the  reasoning  faculty ;  and  the  part  we  have 
taken  has  been  that  which  combines  the  writer's  application  of 
the  general  principles  he  has  laid  down  in  the  body  of  the 
treatise  to  the  particular  case  of  the  evidence  of  revelation. 
For  Dr.  Newman's  treatment  of  the  whole  department  of 


300  Newmans  Grammar  of  Assent. 

reasoning  we  must  refer  our  readers  to  the  treatise  itself,  which 
brings  to  the  subject  the  subtlest  discrimination  and  most 
penetrating  force,  and  an  eye  for  the  nicest  distinctions,  aided 
by  the  richest  imagination  and  the  most  inexhaustible  fertility 
of  illustration.  We  cannot  part  from  Dr.  Newman  without 
assuring  him  how  glad  we  are  to  meet  him  on  common  ground. 
We  do  not,  of  course,  agree  either  with  all  his  philosophical 
positions,  or  with  various  particular  observations  which  we 
come  across  in  the  treatise.  He  sometimes  speaks  from  the 
basis  of  his  own  communion,  and  of  course  all  his  defence  of 
the  Christian  revelation  he  himself  considers  to  belong  to 
the  Koman  interpretation  of  that  revelation.  We  have  pre- 
ferred, however,  to  call  attention  to  agreement  rather  than  to 
differences  ;  and  we  have  treated  his  Essay  as  what  it  really 
and  in  substance  is,  a  defence,  and  powerful  defence,  of  a 
common  Christianity ;  which  has  filled  up  a  vacant  place  in 
Christian  apologetics,  and  has  given  a  substantial  position  to  a 
part  of  the  Christian  argument  which  had  only  received  an 
informal  and  allusive  notice  before,  namely,  the  antecedent  and 
introductory  principles  which  lead  to  the  acceptance  of  the 
Christian  evidences. 


EGYPTIAN  DOCTRINE  OF  A  FUTURE  STATE. 

(NOTE  TO  PAGE  56.) 

THE  doctrine  of  Metempsychosis  was  less  in  conflict  indeed  with  the 
truth  of  human  personality,  when  it  employed  the  brutes  as  its 
instruments,  and  represented  the  souls  of  men  as  passing  upon  death 
into  the  bodies  of  animals ;  for  the  man  prevailed  over  the  lower 
personality  or  impersonality  of  the  brute,  and  was  safer  from  a  rival 
self.  But  the  doctrine  of  animal  metempsychosis  could  not  at  the  same 
time  exist  without  degrading  the  human  soul  in  its  own  eyes,  and 
polluting  the  sense  of  immortality.  Something  is  due  to  the  human 
soul  even  in  a  state  of  sin  and  degeneracy ;  to  unite  it  to  the  nature 
of  brutes  and  send  it  through  an  almost  endless  cycle  of  brute  life, 
migrating  into  one  animal  after  another,  was  to  degrade  not  only  the 
guilty  soul  but  the  soul.  M.  Bunsen  indeed  says, — ".  the  groundwork 
of  this  doctrine  is  a  consciousness  of  moral  responsibility,  and  a  belief 
in  the  personal  indestructibility  of  the  human  soul.  A  judgment  is 
passed  upon  it  at  the  point  of  death,  the  punishment  in  its  being 
condemned  to  be  lowered  from  human  to  animal  life."1  But  even 
punishment,  and  especially  purifying  punishment,  should  be  something 
that  is  suitable  to  man,  nor  should  the  nature  be  degraded  in  chastising 
the  sin.  M.  Bunsen  sees  indeed  in  the  doctrine  of  animal  metempsychosis 
the  foundation  of  the  whole  Egyptian  animal  worship.  "  This 
community  between  the  human  and  animal  soul  once  admitted,  one 
can  understand  how  the  Egyptians  at  last  arrived  at  the  idea  of 
worshipping  in  animals  a  living  manifestation  of  the  Divinity."2  But 
he  could  hardly  have  given  a  greater  proof  of  the  degrading  character 
of  the  doctrine,  than  that  it  involved  the  principle  of  "  a  community 
between  the  human  and  animal  soul,"  and  laid  the  basis  for  the 
revolting  animal  worship  of  ancient  Egypt. 

M.  Bunsen  is  disposed  to  excuse  the  animal  metempsychosis  of  the 
Egyptians  in  consideration  of  their  idea  of  a  personal  immortality. 
He  regards  the  truth  in  the  system  as  atoning  for  the  corruption,  the 
corruption  as  merged  in  the  truth ;  and  so  he  arrives  at  a  very  high 
estimate  of  the  Egyptian  doctrine  of  a  Future  State.  But  upon  this 
plan  we  may  raise  the  rank  of  any  religious  teaching  whatever,  that  is, 
if  we  sink  the  bad  parts,  and  only  judge  by  the  good.  We  must  not 

1  Bunsen's  Egypt,  vol.  iv   p.  641.  2  Ibid. 


302          Egyptian  Doctrine  of  a  Future  State. 

do  this,  but  we  must  take  the  system  as  a  whole.  All  Pagan  teaching 
on  this  subject  had  its  good  side  ;  it  contained  the  idea  of  a  personal 
eternity  ;  but  this  high  idea  was  debased  by  the  mode  in  which  it  was 
dealt  with.  So  with  the  Egyptian  doctrine  in  particular — it  had  this 
idea  in  it ;  but  this  idea  was  joined  to  the  vilest  corruptions.  Could  any 
community,  that  had  the  slightest  pretence  to  advancement  in  religion, 
hold  the  Egyptian  doctrine  of  a  future  state  as  a  whole — with  its  animal 
metempsychosis  attaching  to  it  1  If  this  is  impossible,  then  the  Egyptian 
doctrine  was  a  low  one  as  a  whole.  In  these  combinations  the  good 
parts  raise  the  bad  a  great  deal  less  than  the  bad  parts  drag  down  the 
good.  If  there  is  a  strong  vile  idea  in  a  religion,  we  may  be  quite  sure 
that  that  in  some  way  impregnates  the  whole.  A  spurious  form  of  a 
truth  is  at  great  distance  from  that  truth.  The  Pagan  mythology  con- 
tained the  idea  of  the  unity  of  God.  Mohammedanism  recognises 
Christianity.  Fragmentary  truth, — a  high  idea  existing  in  the  distance, 
while  all  the  near  ground  is  occupied  with  the  grossest  matter,— 
is  a  very  weak  thing.  Animal  metempsychosis  filled  the  whole  fore- 
ground of  the  Egyptian  doctrine, — it  was  the  strong  coarse  material 
which  came  in  contact  with  the  popular  mind,  and  made  the  impres- 
sion ;  the  eternal  world  was  in  the  remote  horizon  of  the  system. 

M.  Bunsen  indeed  appeals  to  the  recently  discovered  piece  of 
Egyptian  Ritual,  called  the  "  Book  of  the  Dead,"  in  which  a  soul  is 
represented  as  urging  its  claim  before  the  supreme  tribunal  of  the 
invisible  world  to  eternal  communion  with  "  its  father  Osiris,"  in  heaven. 
It  recounts  all  its  own  merits,  and  asseverates  its  own  purity  with  the 
solemn  repetition,  "  I  am  pure,  I  am  pure,  I  am  pure,  I  am  pure ;  " 
the  Judges  assent  ;  "  it  is  stripped  of  its  body  and  makes  its  way  to  its 
father,  the  self-created  soul  of  the  Universe  ; "  when  it  sings  in  ecstasy, 
"I  am  the  ruling  spirit  of  Osiris  who  loves  me."1  It  is  not  indeed  easy  to 
repose  a  perfect  faith  in  hieroglyphics,  or  to  understand  what  all  this 
means,  even  if  we  do  ;  but  if  this  piece  of  ritual  means  that  some  souls 
enter,  immediately  on  death,  upon  an  eternal  and  heavenly  life,  we 
must  take  this  doctrine  as  interpreted  by  antiquity  ;  and  the  state- 
ment of  antiquity  is  that  the  eternal  life  beyond  the  stars  to  which 
select  souls  ascended  immediately  upon  death  was  a  divine,  rather  than 
a  strictly  human  state.  "  There  was  another  state,"  says  Warburton, 
who  here  reflects  antiquity,  "  in  the  ancient  pagan  mythology,  which  had 
the  same  relation  to  Elysium  that  Tartarus  had  to  purgatory,  the  extreme 
of  reward,  as  Tartarus  of  punishment.  But  then  this  state  was  not  in  the 
infernal  regions,  but  in  Heaven.  Neither  was  it  the  lot  of  common 
men,  but  reserved  for  heroes  and  demons."2  And  again, — "We  are 
to  know  that  the  Ancients  distinguished  the  souls  of  men  into  three 

1  Bunsen's  Egypt,  vol.  iv.  pp.  644,  646,  665. 

2  Divine  Legation,  vol.  ii.  p.  125. 


Egyptian  Doctrine  of  a  Future  State.          303 

species,  the  human,  the  heroic,  and  the  demonic.  The  two  last,  when 
they  left  the  body,  were  indeed  believed  to  enjoy  eternal  happiness  for 
their  public  services  on  earth  ;  not  in  Elysium,  but  in  heaven,  where 
they  became  a  kind  of  demigods."1  The  heavenly  eternity,  then,  to 
which  some  souls  were  admitted  at  death,  was  a  Divine  rather  than  a 
human  state  in  the  Egyptian  system,  if  we  are  to  interpret  that  system 
by  antiquity  at  large.  The  semi-divine  life  soared  instantly  to  its 
native  empyrean,  but  the  human  future  life  opened  upon  the  gross 
earthly  cycle  of  the  animal  metempsychosis.  We  see  in  such  an  arrange- 
ment a  latent  indulgence  to  human  disbelief.  It  provides  a  future  human 
life  indeed,  but  at  the  same  time  it  encloses  this  life  within  the  bounds 
of  this  material  world  ;  it  lodges  departed  souls  in  tabernacles  of  brute 
flesh,  till  the  end  of  an  enormous  cycle,  when  what  becomes  of  them  is 
too  distant  a  thing  to  be  taken  in  by  the  imagination.  Its  real  future 
is  thus  in  this  world  ;  while  its  eternal  world  is  an  abstraction,  an  ideal 
sphere  of  gods  and  godlike  beings,  and  not  a  human  eternal  residence. 
What  is  at  the  bottom  of  such  an  arrangement  1  Obviously,  the 
difficulty  of  entertaining  the  idea  of  a  real  world  of  departed  men. 
They  live  indeed,  but  it  is  under  different  forms  in  this  world,  or  as 
ideal  beings  in  another.  Egypt  could  make  them  gods,  or  make  them 
brutes,  but  could  not  make  them  eternal  men. 

1  Divine  Legation,  vol.  iii.  p.  136.  He  quotes  Cicero : — "  Omnibus  qui 
patriam  conservarint,  adiuvarint,  auxerint,  certum  esse  in  ccelo  ad  defiiiitum 
locum,  ubi  beati  sevo  sempiterno  fruantur. " — Somn.  Scip.  c.  iii. 

V   OF  THE 

UN1V 


lEtiinbutgJj 

THOMAS   AND    ARCHIBALD    CONSTABLE,    PRINTERS  TO    HER   MAJESTY. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

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